


shifting your shape to my shells

by malkinisms (hannibalisms)



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 55,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibalisms/pseuds/malkinisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki would like to think that a random roommate is better than being alone again, but since he can't really get a word in edgewise, he doesn't know for sure.</p><p>college!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. eitt

**Author's Note:**

> rated Explicit for things that happen later. same goes for graphic depictions of violence.

“I’m not happy that you’re staying with someone that you don’t even know, Loki.”

Loki doesn’t look back at his father as he sets his things down on the bed by the window in his new apartment.  Well, he guesses that it’s an apartment – the entire building is filled with students, and he still has to share a bedroom with someone, but then again they have their own kitchen and living room and there’s a study nook, too, and a balcony.

“It was either room by myself and pay $8000 a term, or room with someone else and pay half that, father, and tuition here isn’t cheap, either.”

Farbauti Ymirsson snorts.  “If you had gone to NYU, you’d be a legacy and you wouldn’t have to pay all these fees, Loki.”

Loki takes a deep breath and counts to five under his breath, something that his last therapist taught him when he was feeling pressured.  “I told you, father, I didn’t want to go to NYU.  I’d just be your son.”

“Do you have a problem with being my son?”

Loki hisses out a breath and turns away from his bed to face his father where he’s leaning against the doorway to the bedroom.  “I didn’t say that, father.  I just want – I want to make a name for myself.  Dr. Hill said that –“

“I don’t care what your last _therapist_ said, Loki,” and Farbauti snarls the word “therapist,” as though just saying it would make him less than what he is, as if it makes Loki less a person.  “what I care about is that you don’t shame your family, that you don’t shame _me._ ”

“I would never shame you, father, to the best of my abilities.”

His father stares him down, until Loki has to look away from Farbauti’s biting green eyes, the only thing that he got from his father.  They stand there, awkward, tense, until Loki hears his father move closer and a hand rests on his shoulder.  Farbauti squeezes his shoulder, _hard_ , but Loki knows it for what it is: the closest thing to affection that he will ever get, the only type of affection that he has gotten since his mother died when he was 15.  Only his brother ever sees affection from the man that they call father.

“I have to get back to New York and the firm.  If you need any money, call the Treasurer’s and they’ll give you whatever you need.  I expect weekly emails letting me know of your progress, as usual.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, father,” Loki whispers, and there’s one more firm squeeze to his shoulder before Farbauti moves away, shuffling in the doorway for a moment before Loki hears him leave the apartment, to head back downstairs to the limousine waiting to take his father to the airport.

The silence is both a blessing and a curse, because for the life of him there has never really _been_ silence, not with Byleistr under his feet all the time – 6 year olds aren’t easy to keep quiet, and Loki loves his brother more than most things in the world, since when his mother was taken from him his brother was given in her stead.  It wasn’t a substitution, or a replacement, but Byleistr allowed both him and his father to love someone.

Loki thinks that he can’t love; Dr. Hill told him that comes from being on his own a lot as a child, and most people are capable of love.  He could be aromantic, but that’s not the same _thing_ , she said.  He didn’t want to leave Dr. Hill behind, but it’s not like she could fly back and forth from New York to Chicago every week for one patient, no matter how well Farbauti is paying her.  His new therapist – a Dr. Erik Selvig – was recommended by Dr. Hill, so he thinks they’ll get along.  Their first meeting is tomorrow, before the start of term, just to get things all in a row.  Dr. Selvig’s office is a few blocks away, within walking distance, just … just in case, Loki told Dr. Hill.  He needs someone close.

Loki realizes that he’s been standing in the middle of the bedroom for at least 5 minutes, lost in thought, and snorts quietly.  That’s just like him, to get lost in his own head.  He might as well begin to unpack.

Since his roommate has yet to show up – Thor Hlodynarsson, the sheet he got in the mail said – Loki takes it upon himself to claim the bed next the window, since it has a sill and he can rest all his trinkets there without worry.  He can open the window and feel the sun and the breeze and soak up the fresh air, and just thinking about it makes his heart swell a little, raises his mood a little.

He moves all his things off his bed and sorts out his sheets and blankets.  They’re the ones that he and Byleistr chose before he left New York; they’re blue, with the Milky Way spread out on it, with glitter to make it shine like the pictures Loki likes to plaster all over his walls from the NASA servers.  He might be a social science major, but he loves the stars – loves how there’s the promise of more in the vastness, loves how there could be another _him_ out there with a different reality.  His pillows match, though without glitter because how horrible would _that_ be to get off your face if you’re running late for class.

He’s made his bed and has begun plastering his star charts and pictures on his wall when he hears the door open and what sounds like a whole marching band troop into his room.  Loki freezes; though his anxiety is mostly under control, large amounts of new people still unsettle him.

He takes a deep breath and counts to 5, then back down, and climbs off his bed to peek around the corner where the herd of elephants is.

They’re all _blond_ , all of them, except the man Loki thinks must be his roommate’s father, but Loki is baffled as to which one his roommate actually _is_.  They’re all blond and blue-eyed and muscular, and did he mention blond?  Really blond.

One of them – with a beard and shoulder length hair and a neck the size of his _head_ , that can’t be normal or healthy – spots him and bounds over to wrench Loki’s hand in a baffling handshake while speaking a mile a minute.

“You must be Loki Laufeyjarsson!  I’m Thor, I’m your roommate, and this is my family – well, most of it, anyway, my other brother is bringing more stuff up – and let me introduce you to all of them!”

Thor yanks him out from around the doorway and how _dare_ he manhandle him that way, Loki thinks, but lets him because he likes being attached to his arm, thank you very much.

“This is my dad, Odin Alfodr, and my mom, Frigga – they run Aesir Corp, have you heard of it? – and my younger brother, Baldur – he’s 16 and wants to come here when he graduates so he came along today – oh, and here’s my older brother, Meili; he’s a doctor the next town over so this was really the perfect place for me to come, and – is your family here?” Thor says this all in one breath as his family smiles at Loki and Thor’s father shakes his hand, all while Thor buffets him around like a weed in the wind.

Loki finally manages to pull away and rub his wrist where Thor’s had a hold of it – he hadn’t been holding on for that long, but _damn_ , does he have a grip (not to mention that Loki bruises like an over-ripe peach).  “No.  My father had to fly back to New York to his law firm.  He couldn’t stay.”

“Oh, well, that’s ok, we’ll adopt you for the night!” Thor says, cuffing him on the shoulder.

This physicality had better not be a “thing.”

Before Loki can answer in the negative – he doesn’t _need_ to be _adopted_ , thanks, and he already has plans for the night, though he doesn’t, not really, unless you count watching movies on Netflix – Thor bounds out of the room, his brothers in tow, and Loki just stands there, trying to figure out _what the fuck just happened_.

A hand rests on his shoulder and the woman – Frigga, Loki reminds himself – is smiling at him like she knows that Loki’s going through.  “He’s like that,” she says softly, “he’ll calm down later.  He’s been looking forward to meeting you all day.”

“I’m sure we’ll get along well, ma’am.”

Frigga laughs and it’s silver bells, pure happiness.  “You don’t have to call me ma’am.  You can call me Frigga.”

“Yes, ma’am – I mean, Frigga.”

She pats him on the shoulder again and trails after her sons, leaving Loki to stand awkwardly with Thor’s father – not that he’s ever comfortable around new people, but he’ll try to be pleasant for the sake of appearances.

“What’s your major, son?”

Oh _god,_ not that.  Patronizing old man.  “I’m double-majoring in international studies and anthropology with a French minor.”

Thor’s father – Odin, Odin, Loki repeats in his head – nods.  “Thor’s in engineering.  Hasn’t got the brains for words, but he knows numbers better than most people that I know.  It’ll be useful in the company.  You said your father had a firm?”

“Yes.  Ymirsson and Ymirsson.  A law firm.”

Odin nods and moves over to the window in the living room that looks over the park across the street.  “Haven’t heard of them myself.  Big firm, are they?”

“Rather large, sir.”  Loki shifts from foot to foot, slowly retreating back to the bedroom.  “If you’ll excuse me, sir …”

Odin waves him off, and Loki exits back into the bedroom only to hear Thor and rest burst back into the room.

Good God, he’ll never have peace and quiet again.

They leave him be, and the noise comes and goes as they bring things up from the parking lot, and laugh, and talk, and while Loki pins his posters to the wall he can’t help but be jealous of this perfect blond family with 3 children and a mother and a father that seem to love them, where all he has is a younger brother and a father that couldn’t be bothered to come to his own high school graduation.

Not that he’s bitter about that, or anything.

After a half-hour, Thor pokes his head in the bedroom.  “Hey, stars!  Cool.  Do you star-gaze?  We should go together once, I know some really good spots here, unless you don’t do that sort of thing.  Anyway, we’re going to go out and get dinner, that pizza place down the block, are you coming?”

Does he _breathe_ when he talks?  God Almighty, take a breath every once in a while.

“Oh, well, um –“

Thor smiles, and Loki’s jaw drops. Oh god.  His smile could melt glaciers.

“Um, all right.  I guess.  If your parents don’t mind.”  Loki fidgets with the hem of his tee, wrapping it around his fingers because this could go badly, it really could, he hasn’t had a panic attack in weeks but, oh god, this could give him one, but then –

“Excellent!  We’re going to bring the last of my things up, then we’re going.  My family’s going to head off after that and we can get unpacking, though you’ve got a head start,” Thor tells him, motioning to Loki’s walls.  He smiles again and Loki clambers off his bed and Thor claps him on the shoulder again, driving the breath out of him for a second.

“You’re pretty quiet, but I’ll talk enough for the both of us.  That ok?”

Loki shrugs, looking up at Thor from under his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose.  “It doesn’t really matter to me either way,” Loki says finally, though in reality he is worried that Thor won’t _ever_ shut up.

Thor grins again.

God help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from the Eisley song [_invasion_](http://youtu.be/zKprch2ywJY) **eitt** \- one (n., íslenska)
> 
> if you're looking to see the whole cast of characters, I would recommend checking [this page out on my tumblr](http://l0ptr.tumblr.com/post/20157518398/shifting-your-shape-to-my-shells-character-list-and) to get who is who and why! I highly suggest reading this, and it's spoiler free.


	2. tvö

Dinner with a family is strange, Loki decides, as if he were deposited on an alien planet and not given any hints about how to behave.  He’s not sure what part he’s supposed to play at this meal, so he just sits quietly and speaks when spoken to, and doesn’t do much else.  He wonders if, had his mother lived, would they be like this family?  Would he and Byleistr crack inappropriate jokes, only to be told off gently?  It’s not something that he really wants to think about.

Frigga is the glue that holds them together, though.  Odin and Meili talk about Meili’s practice, where he’s the head physician, and pretty much ignore the rest of the family – though they don’t seem to mind at all.  Thor tries to bring Loki into conversation with him and Baldur, but Loki just can’t think of what to say, can’t seem to make his tongue shape the words, so he just lets them talk and joke and smile occasionally at him.

Frigga makes sure that they have everything they need, enough napkins, forks, everything; she’s the one that coaxes Loki into telling them a little about himself (21, born in December, favorite color is blue, he likes horror video games) and stops Baldur from flicking food at them (“Baldur, I swear to all things holy, if you fling _one more olive_ at your brother you will rue the day that you were born!”).

They order a ridiculous amount of food, but then looking at Thor and Baldur, he can see _why_ ; between the two of them they devour half of the large deep-dish pizza as well as a large salad (in Thor’s case) and a plate of bruschetta (in Baldur’s case).

It’s a miracle that they don’t weigh 400 pounds.

Loki manages to eat two slices of the pizza (my _god_ , think of the caloric intake that is!) but the whole “eating a regular meal” thing isn’t quite what he’s used to, since he subsists mostly on oatmeal and toast and various types of fruit.

It is _good_ pizza, though.  It has a lot of cheese.  Loki likes cheese.  As he wraps a string of it around his finger off the last bite of his slice, Thor nudges him with his shoulder and asks him, _sotto voce_ , “Is this ok?”

Loki manages a smile and shrugs, aware of Frigga watching them.  “Yes, of course.”

“All right.”

With that, Thor turns away again and Loki’s left to contemplate this strange family, willing to take someone that they don’t even know out to dinner just because their son is sharing a room with them.  It’s a curious thing, Loki thinks, that some people have enough heart that they have to spread it around as much as possible and other people don’t have any heart at all, except for when it directly concerns them.

* * *

Though it sounds cruel, thankfully after dinner Thor’s family leaves them be, with tears on Frigga’s part and general care from the others.  Loki retreats into the bedroom again while they say their goodbyes, not only because it’s a family thing but also because it’s simply awkward.  Even when his mother was still alive, Farbauti wasn’t an affectionate man.  He eschewed touching for the most part, maybe because he was a lawyer and more forward thinking than concerned about the emotional needs of people.  He had to deal with emotions in court all day long; though Loki never liked it, as he got older he understood why his father was so distant.

Luckily for Byleistr, Farbauti didn’t take the same tack that he took with Loki.  Someone in the family needs to feel wanted, Loki tells himself; better his younger brother than him.

The door to the apartment shuts and Thor shuffles into the bedroom.  Loki turns from where he’s standing on the bed, sticking glow-in-dark stars on the ceiling, to see Thor grinning sheepishly up at him.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Loki asks, returning to his stars.  “Your family seems very nice.”

“Yeah, but we’ve just met, you know, and when we’re all together I know that we can be overwhelming and loud and rambunctious.  You seem to like the quiet.  So – sorry.”

Loki shrugs.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure?”

Loki sighs.  If this is how it’s going to be with Thor, apologizing for everything, that’s the last thing that Loki needs on his plate at the moment.  “I’m _positive._ ”

“All right!”  Thor sounds pleased with his admission, and then begins setting up his own side of the room.

Loki wonders as he clambers off the bed, beginning to put his clothes in the dresser on his side, if there’s some kind of protocol that comes with living with a person that you don’t really know.  Should you make ground rules?  Do you need to have a discussion about people coming over, and food sharing, and – god forbid – if one of them has a _friend_ over?  The thought of talking about these things with anyone other than a therapist makes his insides squirm and twist.

He waffles for a moment, trying to figure out how normal people start conversations, how a person that wasn’t him would talk to someone like Thor, all outgoing and talkative, and all he can do is blurt out, “So, engineering?”

“Oh, yeah!”

And then Thor is off and running, talking a mile a minute about how cool machines are, and did you know that there are a ton of new ideas out there about how to fix engines to get better gas mileage, and his lab partner Tony is trying to build an android that has human capabilities and is a learning computer at the same time, and Loki just listens to Thor talk.  It’s nice, he guesses, just having someone to listen to that isn’t telling him how worthless social sciences are.

Every so often Thor looks to him for input and Loki has to struggle with something to say, to prove that he’s listening, but Thor is intuitive enough to know that it’s hard for Loki to be personable – even only after a few hours in each other’s company.

Thor begins to peter off when he runs out of esoteric engineering tidbits to throw Loki’s way.  Loki sits on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs back and forth, watching Thor plaster landscapes on his wall.  It’s one of those little things you learn about people: Thor _looks_ like the kind of person that would want pictures of women and fast cars and guns, maybe football or some other sport, but instead he has pictures of the African savannah and the jungle and big cats.

Thor catches him looking and shrugs as he shoves clothes into his dresser – the complete opposite of Loki, who puts everything in neat and in its place.  “I’ve always wanted to go to Africa.  My dad went there on business once when I was a kid, and I always wanted to go there.”

“I – um, I would be afraid of the animals.”

“Yeah, but that’s why they have those safari cars with the tough windows!”  Thor glances at him over his shoulder and smiles.  “Where would you go, if you could go anywhere?”

“Iceland.”  He knows the answer to that question without even thinking.

“Iceland?  Really?  Why?”

“I don’t – I don’t know.  Um, the waterfalls, and the volcanoes, and, uh, the landscapes, I guess.  It’s not like other places,” Loki says, picking at the loose threads on the hem of his shirt, where it’s begun to unravel from all his tugging on it.  “I just think it’d be beautiful.”

Thor nods at his star pictures.  “I bet you could see the stars really well there.”

Loki nods in turn, gnawing at his lower lip and pushing his glasses up _again_ ; they need to be re-fitted but it’s so expensive, and he could ask his father for the money but he hates doing that, so he’ll just wait until his job at the library starts again.  “I think that’s why I want to go.”

Thor jams the top drawer shut on his dresser and shoves his suitcases under his bed.  The conversation lulls again and Loki wants to talk, wants to find something in common again with this new person in his life, but there’s nothing that he can think of off the top of his head that isn’t trite or anything.  So, he flees to the living room to unpack his books and build his bookcase, because when all else fails, running away will solve your problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tvö** \- two (n., íslenska)


	3. þrjú

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> for reference, here's the layout of the room that Thor and Loki share.

Thor snores.

Loudly.

Incessantly.

One time, right around 3 AM, Loki contemplated going over to Thor’s bed and smothering him with a pillow, and then wondered if that would count as temporary insanity and if a jury of his peers would let him off.

It bears thinking about, at least.

Finally, _finally_ , Thor rolls over and snuffles face down into his pillow, muffled enough that Loki very nearly falls asleep within seconds of that happening, thank _god._

It’s 9:15 when his alarm goes off and for a moment, Loki thinks that this is all some unholy plot by god to make his life miserable.  He rolls out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom, grabbing his towel on the way, glaring at Thor who continues to sleep, snoring happily into his pillow.

Bastard.

That they have a bathtub and not a shower is a moment of pure joy for Loki.  Showers are for that moment when you have 10 minutes to get clean and out the door; bathtubs are for everything else, in Loki’s opinion.  What’s the point of taking a shower if you don’t have anywhere to go?

He doesn’t take baths often, and today isn’t going to be one of those days, but that he _can_ take a bath, whenever he wants, is very nice.  He takes his time in the shower because he doesn’t have to be out the door until 10:30 anyway to get to his appointment with Dr. Selvig, and because why not?  It doesn’t seem like Thor has any other plans for the day.

His phone chirps at him from the sink as he starts to wash his hair, but it’s only a text; he’ll worry about it when he gets out.  He stands under the water and lets it rain down on his face and he wonders idly what drowning feels like.  It’s not that he wants to drown or would really ever contemplate it, but he’s always had strange, twisted thoughts like that.  What it’s like to burn, to suffocate, to fall away in the vastness of space – it’s all interesting to him.

He shakes himself from his stupor and finishes his shower, wrapping himself in his towel – it’s one of those extra large ones that could double as a blanket if he really wanted – and peeks out of the bathroom.

Thor’s not in bed anymore, and there’s a light shining from the living room, so Loki makes a run for it, dashing out of the bathroom and locking the bedroom door so that he can change into his clothes in peace.

After changing, he checks his phone.

**From: DARC  
 _sent 9:26 AM_  
lolki! Are you back on campus? where are you lving? lunch 2day if you are?**

He texts her back, quickly.

**To: DARC  
 _sent 9:48 AM  
_ Yes I am back on campus. Brook Apartments. Shrink @ 11-12. Panera 1230?**

He manages to dig out a pair of shoes before she texts him back; Darcy is one of the fastest people via touchscreen keyboard that he knows.

**From: DARC  
 _sent 9:49 AM  
_ its a date my friend. can jane come?**

**To: DARC  
 _sent 9:50 AM  
_ Sure.**

He doesn’t mind Jane.  She always has her head in a book, and when it’s not in a book she’s talking either A) about astrophysics, which is beyond Loki even with his love of stars, or B) how much she hates her current roommates.

It doesn’t matter that the term has just started; she’ll probably have something to bitch about.

He trudges out into the living room, where Thor is already perched on the futon slurping down a gigantic bowl of Froot Loops.  Loki shudders.  It’s not so much the size of the bowl as the cereal.  He _will_ teach Thor to like granola.  Or flax.  Or oatmeal.  He’d even be okay with Cheerios.  Anything but fucking _Froot Loops._

Thor smiles at him, spoon stuck in his mouth.  He picks up the box of cereal and shakes it at Loki, who backs away into the kitchen.  “No, um, no thanks.  I’m just gonna have some toast, I think.”

Thor shrugs.  “Why are you up so early?”

Loki doesn’t answer as he puts his bread in the toaster and fishes out the strawberry jam from the fridge.  “I have a doctor’s appointment at 11.”

“Oh. That blows, you haven’t even been here a day!”

Loki shrugs, looking at Thor over his shoulder as he waits for the toast to pop up.  “It’s not so bad.  It’s not very far.  Just by the library.”

Thor nods.  “D’you want me to walk with you?”

Loki splutters and nearly drops his jar of jam all over the floor.  “No!  No.  I mean, no thanks.  It’s fine.”

“Oh. Ok.”  Out of the corner of his eye, Loki sees Thor shrug again and he turns back to his laptop that’s perched on his knees, precariously balanced and just asking to be covered in flavored milk.

Loki braces himself on the counter for a moment.  Thor _can’t know_.  Not now, not this early.  If he finds out, he’ll think less of Loki for going to talk to someone, just like his father does – and my _god_ , he doesn’t think that he can bear Thor disliking him.  Even now, with his disgusting cereal and his stupid snoring, Thor just looks like the kind of person that Loki would like to be friends with.  He can’t fuck it up, he just can’t.

His toast pops up and distracts him; he spreads on jam and eats it mechanically, not even tasting it, thinking about how he can keep Thor from figuring out where he’s going, what doctor he’s seeing.  There’s nothing for it; he just can’t tell Thor anything more than he already has.  That way – that way, Thor will still want to be around him, because talking to therapists keeps him sane, keeps him _normal_ , and just like his father always told him, being normal is what people like.

He licks the jam from his fingers and the edge of the butter knife at the same time that Thor brings his cereal bowl over to put it in the sink.  Thor rinses it out and after he’s finished, he hovers around the kitchen for a moment before seeming to blurt out his words.

“Listen, if you don’t me to – um – or if you don’t want to hang out with me, I get it,” he says, and then shrugs, a little awkwardly.  “I just thought, I guess, it’d be nice to get to know each other a little more.”

Loki laughs and it has to sound a little stretched, a little crazy, maybe even a little hysterical and he doesn’t know how to tell Thor that’s not _him_ , it’s just that Loki is _fucking crazy_ and he doesn’t want Thor to know, because Thor doesn’t treat him like he’s made of glass or explosives.  “That’s not it at all.  I just like the time to – think, is all.  It’s not you.”

Thor doesn’t look convinced – he actually looks a little freaked out about the reaction he’s gotten, if Loki can read facial expressions as well as he used to be able to do – but nods all the same and makes his way back to the couch and his computer.

Loki flits around the kitchen, trying to think of things to do, things to keep himself busy, but all he wants to do is _leave_ so he grabs his laptop bag and leaves with a wave to Thor, trying to bring back a semblance of normalcy to the situation.

He gets to Dr. Selvig’s office at 10:40.  He sits outside, smoking one cigarette after another – a bad habit, but only one he picks back up when he’s stressed – until it’s time for his appointment.

He trudges up the stairs.  There’s an older woman seated at the desk near the door that looks up at him and smiles while looking him up and down over her cat-eye glasses.  “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Dr. Selvig.  My name’s Loki Laufeyjarsson.”

“Ok, you’re a new patient, so take a seat and just fill this form out, all right?  Then once you’re done, I’ll let Dr. Selvig know that you’re here,” she says as she hands him a clipboard with one of those boring basic medical information sheets on it.  He thought that Dr. Hill would have sent this to the office, but it’s not like it’s a big deal to fill it out; he’s been doing his own medical paperwork since he was 16.

It only takes him a couple of minutes and then he’s handing it back to her.  She presses a button on her desk and Loki sits back down to wait.  The waiting room is done in shades of green, and Loki supposes that it’s kind of comforting in a forest-y kind of way.  It’s better than the stark white that Dr. Hill’s office was, and the blinding yellow of Dr. Ferank before her, or the grey of the doctor at the hospital before him.  The chair are comfortable, too, and they’re just spaced out enough that even though there’s no one else in the room he doesn’t feel close to anyone.

A door opens behind the woman at the desk, and Dr. Selvig doesn’t look anything like Loki imagined him.  He has grey hair and glasses, and an almost frumpy blue cardigan on over a white button-down and a pair of khakis.  Huh.

“Loki?”

He has an accent, too, one that Loki can’t really place.

He doesn’t reach out to shake Loki’s hand, which is nice, for once, because Loki doesn’t like being touched all that much.  He wonders what Dr. Hill told him when she sent over his case file.

“You can sit wherever you’d like – aside from my desk chair, of course,” Dr. Selvig says, motioning around the room.

Loki rocks from foot to foot for a moment before choosing the armchair on the opposite side of the desk, just like how he’d sit with Dr. Hill.  It makes him feel better than a couch or those stupid half-couch-half-chair things.  The desk is a barrier, he knows, and that’s how he likes it.

“Let’s start with introductions.  I’m Dr. Selvig.  You can call me Erik, if you’d prefer.  I got my doctorate in psychology from the University of Gothenburg, in Sweden, and I have practiced there and here, clearly,” Dr. Selvig tells him, crossing his legs at the knee and looking at Loki over his glasses.  “I want you to be comfortable here.  I don’t take notes while you’re here, because we’re having a conversation – I’m not here to study you or stare at you as though you’re in a zoo.  I want us to talk to each other.  Is that all right with you?”

Loki nods, wrapping his hands in the long sleeves of his shirt.

“Good.  That’s good.  How about you?  Tell me a little about yourself.”

“Um.  Like what?”  He’s never good at these tests, he fails them every time.

“Anything you want me to know, Loki.  Absolutely anything.”

“Ok.  Um.  I’m studying anthropology and international studies, and French.  I like French.”

“Ah, _je parle un petit peu français_.  I took it for a year and went to Paris.  Have you been to France, Loki?”

Loki nods.  “I went last summer with some friends.  We went to Paris, and Limoges, and then south to Toulouse and Perpignan.  It was difficult but we had a good time.”

“That’s good, that you were able to use what you’re studying in college.  What else do you do at the college?  Are you part of any clubs or sports?”

Loki shrugs.  “I go to the French club some of the time.  But I don’t like anything else, really.”

Dr. Selvig tilts his head.  “You don’t have any hobbies?”

Loki fidgets in his chair, trying to sink down in.  He bites his lip, worrying it between his teeth.  “Um, I like the stars.  And writing, and music.”

“Good, good.  Is there anything else that you would like me to know?”

Loki pulls his legs up into the chair, resting his chin on his knees.  “I live with someone.  His name’s Thor.  I want to be his friend but I don’t know how.  I don’t want him to know that I’m crazy.”

Dr. Selvig doesn’t tut or tell him not to say such things.  All he says is, with another tilt of his head, “Well, how about we make that our first goal?  You want to be friends with your roommate, Thor.  We could make a list of how you’re going to do that.  How does that sound?”

Loki likes that he asks his opinion on everything, even if he might not listen in the long run.  He likes that he doesn’t patronize him or make him feel childish or stupid or tell him that he’s not crazy.  He likes that.

“Okay.”

Dr. Selvig reaches into his desk and pulls out a pad of paper sets it on the desk, uncaps a red marker, and looks expectantly at Loki.  “So, what do you think being a friend means, Loki?  Just tell me what pops into your head.”

“Well, being able to talk to them, about a lot of things.  Or being able to – to ask for advice.  Share things.  Tell them about your day and they won’t make it about them.  They’ll, uh, help you when you need it?”

Dr. Selvig writes everything down, nodding as he does so.  “There’s no right answers, Loki.  Just tell me what you think.”

Loki sits normally in the chair again, tugging on the edge of his sleeve.  “Well, you don’t lie to each other.  Or keep secrets.  They won’t laugh when you tell them your dreams, or tell you that it’s childish or dumb or anything like that.”

“Those are all really good things to remember about being friends, Loki.  Can you think of anything else?” Dr. Selvig looks expectant, but not so much that if Loki can’t come up with anything that he’ll be disappointed.

“I don’t know.  I can’t – I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, Loki.  You did a good job.  These are all really good things to remember about being friends.  Let’s do this: you take the list back with you.  If you think of anything else that means being friends to you, put it on the list, and when you come back next week we can talk about it then.  How does that sound?”

“Okay.  I can – I can do that, I think.  I can write anything?”

“Anything at all that you think you need to remember to be friends with someone.  But, this is a great start,” Dr. Selvig tells him as he tears the piece of paper out of the notebook and hands it to Loki across the desk.  “I think for our first session you’ve done well.  There’s only one thing that we need to talk about otherwise.”

“All right.  Okay.”

Dr. Selvig pulls out a file – and _god_ , when did his file get that thick? – and flips through a few pages.  “I have a note here from Dr. Hill that says you’re taking 1 50mg tablet of Zoloft a day.  Is that correct?”

“Yeah.  Well, it’s the generic for it – Sertraline – but that’s what I take,” Loki says, looking down at his feet.  “I get panic attacks really badly sometimes.”

“That’s understandable.  Here’s what I need you to do for me.  Keep track of what time you take your pill for the next month, and if you have any panic attacks and what you think caused them.  Will that be too difficult for you?”

“No, I can do that.  Should I just – write it down on a piece of paper, or …?”

“Just a piece of paper is fine.  That way, we know if we need to change your dosage at all.  All right?  Does that sound good?”

Loki nods.

“Good, good.  I do think our time for today is up,” Dr. Selvig says as he glances at his watch, “so I’ll see you next week, then.  Make sure that you set that up with Monica at the desk, and get an emergency call card as well.  If you think you need to talk before then, you can call that number and speak with me over the phone or we can have an emergency session.  Ok?”

“Ok.”

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Um, not right now, no,” Loki says, standing and pulling his bag back over his head.  “I don’t think so.”

“All right,” Dr. Selvig says with a smile.  “Call that number if you need it.  That’s what it’s for.  If you don’t need to call it, I’ll see you next week.”

Dr. Selvig opens the door and Loki leaves as a young woman, probably close to his age, goes in.  She looks wrecked, and Loki knows how she feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **þrjú** \- three (n., íslenska)


	4. fjögur

The Panera is almost too crowded for Loki, but the thought of _food_ , a delicious coffee and a bread bowl wins over his hate of crowds.  He finds Darcy and Jane hidden in a back corner after getting his food and they smile at him and let him eat before they pepper him with questions.

“What’s his name?”

“What does he look like?”

“What’s his major – something stupid?”

“Would you fuck him?”

“Darcy!” Loki splutters into his coffee.  “I don’t even know him!”

“So?  I’ve been with a lot of people that I don’t know.  Just because you don’t know them doesn’t mean that you can’t sleep with them,” Darcy quips, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  She pushes her glasses up her nose, watching him like she can see through his soul.  “So, answer the question, Loki – would you?”

He can feel his face turn bright red and Jane giggles behind her book on Carl Sagan.  “That’s enough of an answer for me.”

“Shut it, you,” he mumbles into the last few bites of his bread bowl, which makes Jane laugh again.  “We are _not_ talking about that.”

“Oh, we so _are_ , Loki!  You’re never interested in anyone like that, ever.  Spill it, what’s so special about this dude?  Tell me, tell me!” Darcy shrieks, drawing the attention of the other patrons, especially when she reaches over and takes him by the shoulders and shakes him a few times.

“I don’t know, ok?  He’s nice.  He likes stars.  And Africa,” Loki says, drawing his fingers through the crumbs left from his bread, “and he and his family took me out for dinner when they didn’t have to yesterday.”

“Ah, the real way to a man’s heart – through his stomach,” Jane mumbles, only half paying attention.  “What does he look like?”

“Well, he’s blond, and tall, and he has a scruffy beard, and –“

“Does he have a facebook?” Darcy interrupts.

“I don’t _know_ ,” Loki shrugs as he pulls out his phone.  He looks Thor up and there he is; he hands Darcy the phone and she whistles lowly.

“I’d tap that.”

“ _Darcy!_ ” Loki blushes red again.  “Knock it off!”

She plays with his phone for a second and while she hands it back, she tells him, “I sent him a friend request for you.”

“DARCY!” Loki squeals, his voice higher-pitched than he thought possible.  “Why did you do that?”

“Because you’d never do it yourself,” she smirks, stirring her coffee with a straw.  “You’ll thank me later.”

“I don’t need your _help,_ ” Loki huffs, standing.  “I can manage fine on my own.”

He pushes away from the table and stalks away, pausing for a moment only to throw away his garbage as Darcy calls his name from the table.  He almost goes back, almost turns to talk this out but with the day that he has had – and it’s barely half over! – he can’t deal with things like this.

He doesn’t need people to tell him how to be friends or when to be friends, he doesn’t _need_ that; he thought that out of all people, Darcy would get that.  She’s been friends with him for so long that she should _know_ how he feels about people pushing him and making him do things that he’s not ready to conquer.  He knows that she meant well and she has always been one to push him to try new things and enjoy the life that he has, but for some reason this development really rubs him the wrong way.  It’s just upsetting for so many different reasons.

He stops at the little café across from his apartment building and gets a chai latte – one of the only things that can life his dark moods – and stands outside in the sun, trying to soak up the rays and calm down before going back to his room.

His phone pings and he glances at the notification.

**Thor Hlodynarsson has accepted your friend request!**

Ok.  This is ok, he tells himself, taking a deep breath.  Friends on facebook is ok.  There’s nothing wrong with the fact that he is friends with his roommate, since it would have probably happened sooner rather than later.  He can add it on to the list from his session: people become friends on facebook.  That’s something that friends do.

He shuffles back to his apartment, and when he opens the door Thor is [lying on the floor by the TV](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/20379419476), looking like he was thinking about getting up but then changed his mind.  Thor glances at him and smiles but it drops from his face almost instantly.

“Wow, what happened?  Everything all right?”

Loki shrugs.  “I had an argument with one of my friends, that’s all.  It put me in a mood.”

“I know something that will make your mood better, I think!” Thor rolls to one side and the TV pops on, and they have cable now!  “The cable people came today and now we have TV and internet, too; if we split it it’s only $40 a month, and we have movie channels!”

Everything that Thor says seems to end in an exclamation point.  Loki doesn’t mind.

Thor manages to roll over his stomach and army-crawl onto the couch, beckoning Loki over.  Loki goes, almost obedient, and sits next to Thor and puts his feet up on the coffee table.

Thor rambles about the TV and the channels, and look we have the Science channel, and Animal Planet, and do you think we have both History Channels?

Before he can really move, though, he’s fallen asleep next to Thor on the couch.

* * *

He wakes some time later, covered in a blanket and lying across the whole length of the couch.  There’s a delicious, spicy scent in the air – garlic and onion, and herbs that he can’t name – and that’s enough to rouse him fully from where he’s fallen asleep.

Thor’s in the kitchen, humming along to softly playing music.  He hasn’t noticed that Loki’s awake yet and works over the stove, stirring whatever it is that he’s making.  Loki takes the moment to really look at Thor and about what Darcy said earlier.

He would like to get to know Thor in a more personal way, but he really doesn’t know how to go about it – it’s not like he has experience with matters of the carnal nature.  No one’s ever been interested in him, except for Darcy, and that was short-lived as soon as she found out that he was only interested in men.

Thor’s shoulders are broad and he’s tall – though he’s a scant inch taller than Thor, he reckons – and it’s easy to see that Thor’s built for rough and tumble things where Loki is not.  His hands are strong and they handle things well – the spoon in his hand now, or the screwdriver from when Thor ended up putting Loki’s blasted bookshelf together – and for a second Loki sees Thor building things, making things and being a creator.

Thor has a strong chin and jawline, and he’s just generally well-built and blond and beautiful and the thought enters unbidden that right then, at that moment, Loki wants to snuggle into the hollow between Thor’s shoulder blades and tuck his hands into Thor’s pockets, and it makes him let out an embarrassing noise that alerts Thor to his wakefulness.

“You’re up!  You seemed so tired, I just let you sleep.  Um, I hope you don’t mind,” Thor says, waving the spoon around, red sauce flying.  “Oh shit!  Cock _sucker_.”

Loki sniggers, even in the face of the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.  There’s red sauce all over the side of the fridge now, and Thor’s cleaning it up with a look of pure distaste.

“What are you making?”

“Pasta bake.  My mom taught me how to make it.”

Curiosity piqued, Loki gets up and with the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, makes his way in the kitchen to peer over Thor’s shoulder where he’s ladling sauce over pasta and meat.  He spreads it with the back of the spoon and then spreads cheese over the entire thing – at least an entire bag of mozzarella – and then they both step back as Thor shoves it in the oven.

“Is it good?”

“Well you’ll have to tell me after you eat it, Loki,” Thor quips, “since it’s what’s for dinner, after all.”

“I, um, figured it was just for you.”

Thor looks at him strangely as he washes the dishes.  They weren’t lucky enough to get an apartment with a dishwasher.  “Why would I make dinner for only me when you’re here?  That’d be rude.”

Loki shrugs and hops up to sit on the counter that serves as a breakfast bar of sorts.  “I always fend for myself at home, so I guess I’m just – used to only feeding myself.  So I don’t expect people to cook for me.  My father never did, I mean.”

“Well, what about your mom?  She didn’t let you eat all alone?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, until Loki manages to whisper, “My mother died when I was 15.”

The look on Thor’s face speaks volumes, that he wasn’t expecting that answer and doesn’t know how to respond to it.  Neither of them says anything, until Thor swallows loudly and takes his hands out of the sink, dries them, and rests one on Loki’s shoulder, thumb pressing gently into the join of shoulder and throat.

“When I was 6, I lost my mother.”

Loki’s head whips up, confused, and Thor continues.  “Frigga’s my step-mother.  Baldur’s my half-brother.  I barely remember my mother, but Frigga’s always been my mother after that.”

Thor stands there for a few more seconds before turning back to the dishes.  Their silence is comfortable after that.

The oven pings a few minutes after Thor has finished with the dishes and for some reason, he makes toast while letting the pasta sit and settle.

He plates it and sets it down in front of Loki with a flourish, Loki having since moved to actually sit at the counter rather than on it.

Thor begins eating as soon as he sits down, but Loki takes his time examining the food [before taking a bite of the toast](http://sugar-by-the-spoonful.tumblr.com/post/15600128225) – buttered – and then a bite of pasta after.

It’s really quite good, better than he expected, and even though he’s not used to eating full meals he cleans his plate and then has seconds of both the toast and the pasta, with Thor looking far too pleased with himself at his side.

They make small talk as Thor puts the pasta bake in containers for left-overs and Loki washes the dishes; they watch some old film on TCM and by the time that 10 rolls around, Loki is fat and happy and ready for bed.

Before he goes to sleep, he adds on to his list: Friends make each other dinner.

* * *

Thor is gone the next morning when Loki wakes up (having slept through any snoring that may have occurred) though he does leave a note: “gone running. made pancakes. t”, like anyone else would be leaving notes taped to a pan lid set over a plate of still-warm pancakes.

Loki devours the pancakes without a thought and thinks that he could get used to this, waking up to meals being made and company where before there would be only silence until his brother came home from school, even in the summer.

His phone rings and it’s Darcy, and for a moment – a split second – he contemplates not answering.  His conscience, what little there is, gets the better of him.

“Hello?”

“Ok, so, before you hang up on me, I’m sorry for doing that yesterday and I’m a horrible friend and I should know better and I get that you’re angry with me but I really am sorry, and to make it up to you I am standing outside your building with cupcakes and lattes and it is cold for August, so if you could let me in so that I can apologize in person with confections that would be really awesome.”

For a second, Loki can’t answer and [he just sits silently](http://sugar-by-the-spoonful.tumblr.com/post/15803166181), before sighing.  “All right.  I’ll come down and let you in.”

She’s lucky that she knows the way to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **fjögur** \- four (n., íslenska)
> 
>  **eta** took out one of the worst english mistakes I have ever made, my god i am embarrassed with myself


	5. fimm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of previous self-harm, suicide attempts

When Loki comes back on the first Friday of classes, [Thor’s sitting on the couch](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/20438112395), rubbing his eyes and yawning.  He looks sleep-stupid, sweet though, and Loki can’t help but smile at him.  Thor looks back at him and smiles as well and it makes Loki’s heart swell, just that Thor likes him as a person.

“How was your day?” Thor yawns.  “Did you _parle_ enough _Français_ to your liking?”

Loki nods as he slings his bag down next to the coffee table and sits on the floor next to it, taking his things out of his bag and placing them in the proper order.  “Yes.  They want to go to this French restaurant in the city but it’s too expensive, and there’ll be so many people.  I don’t think that I’m going to go, to be honest.”

“You’ll have fun, though, I bet.”

Loki shrugs and rests his elbows on the table.  “I might.  I doubt it, though.  I’d have more fun here than anything else.”

Thor laughs and stretches, and Loki can’t help but trace the length of him with his eyes.  “You warm the cockles of my heart, saying things like that.”

Scoffing, Loki looks away.  “More like I enjoy the company of my computer than you.”

“Oh, now I’m _wounded_ ,” Thor moans, and falls sideways onto the couch, head on the same level as Loki’s now.  “You’ve killed me.”

“Are you sure that you’re an engineering major and not a theater major?”

“Pretty positive.”

“Huh,” Loki says with a smirk.  “You could have fooled me!”

Thor laughs as Loki picks himself up off the floor and gathers what he needs to take to his appointment with Dr. Selvig.  Thor watches him, a smile on his face.  “Where are you heading off to now?  You just got back.”

“Doctor’s appointment.  A follow-up to the one that I had last week,” Loki says with a shrug, hoping against hope that Thor will drop it, just leave it be, and he does.  Loki is never more thankful for that little dismissive hand wave that Thor gets from his father, because it means that Thor’s not going to press the matter.

“Do you want me to bring back something for dinner?”

Thor looks at him from his perch, upside down, and gives him a little half-hearted shrug.  “If you want.  You don’t have to.  I could make dinner again.”

“You’ve made dinner all week, Thor.  I can’t cook.  I can at least get us something to go,” Loki tells him, hands on his hips.  He’s feeling strangely sassy tonight, all sweet and sour and ready to go.  “Let me?”

Thor smiles at him this time.  “All right, all right, you get dinner tonight.  Fine.”

“ _Thank_ you.”

* * *

Dr. Selvig is pleased with him, and it makes Loki’s mood even better.  Dr. Selvig is pleased that he’s added to the list – 8 things in total, now – and encourages him to keep it up, keeping going even though he and Thor seem to be getting along just fine.  They spend the greater amount of time talking about his additions to the Friends List, as Loki’s taken to calling it.  They’re _friends_ , Loki tells him, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to. 

“You don’t talk to anyone else, Loki?” Dr. Selvig asks.

“Well, I talk to people and there’s Darcy, of course, but not anyone else.  Not really.  No one else I’d call a friend.”

“Who’s Darcy?”

Loki smiles, he can’t help it.  “Darcy’s my best friend.  We went to the same high school and we decided to come to the same college, even though we didn’t know the other was coming here.  She’s in Poli Sci right now – I’m betting she’s going to switch it one more time, before she graduates – and we’re really close.”

“How did the two of you become friends?”  Dr. Selvig rests his chin on one fist and looks really interested and for a second Loki’s brain tells him _it’s because he’s wondering how someone like you could be friends with anyone_ before he can shake it out of his head.

“Um, well, we just – started talking.  Right before my mom died.  And we just never stopped.”

“Does she know that you come to these sessions?”

Loki nods, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves again.  “Yeah.  She was the one who encouraged me to start seeing someone.  She’s probably why – why – “

And he can’t get it out, can’t let the words escape his lips because _saying_ them makes them true, makes it real again –

Until Dr. Selvig presses, softly, “Why what, Loki?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, can’t say anything, but then whispers, so quiet that Dr. Selvig has to lean forward to hear him, “Why I couldn’t manage to kill myself.”

Dr. Selvig doesn’t answer right away, as though he’s trying to figure out the situation, decide what won’t set Loki off or make him upset.

“It’s good that you didn’t, though, Loki.  I’m not going to tell you why, because that’s for _you_ to figure out.  That’s why we talk and discuss these things.  You care about Darcy enough to want to be around for her, right?”

Loki manages a stuttering nod, and he doesn’t want to make eye-contact with Dr. Selvig because he doesn’t know what he’ll see in his eyes, doesn’t know if it will be disappointment or sadness or anger, and he can’t take any of them right now.

“Then that’s something to keep in mind.  Think about that before we meet the next time.  What were the other things that stopped you from hurting yourself?  What stops you now?”

Loki opens his mouth to answer, but Dr. Selvig raises a hand.  “Don’t answer me now.  I want you to think about it, really think about it, and then we’ll talk about it next time.  Is that ok?”

“Ok.”

He makes his appointment for the next week with the woman at the desk and leaves, walking as though in a dream, like he’s not really there, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to get for dinner or where or what time it even _is_.

He stops at a fountain – one of several in the park – and sits on the bench, watching the people go by.  It’s not that he wants to hurt himself – that urge has long since passed, though sometimes it surfaces for the briefest of moments – but that he doesn’t really know any other way to make things better.  It’s like he can’t process things without knowing that his skin is his, that he’s real and he can bleed and his skin is his own, and it doesn’t belong to anyone.

He traces over the scars on his wrists – the oldest ones, but not the only ones – and wonders what people think of him when they notice them.  He doesn’t hide them like he used to, with long sleeves even in the summer and thick wristlets, but he doesn’t go out of his way to show them off.  He wonders if Thor has noticed them at all.

They feel so huge under the tips of his fingers, so dark against his skin, but then again the average person probably wouldn’t notice them unless they were pointed out.  It begs the question whether people really look at each other anymore, what people see when they look at each other.

He scoffs at himself.  What average person would do what he’s doing, sitting around and wondering about other people?  The average person, he guesses, wouldn’t do a lot of what he does.

He decides on Chinese food, because it’s simple and easy and who _doesn’t_ like sweet and sour chicken, and by the time he gets back to the apartment dinner time is just rolling around.

Thor cranes his head backwards from where he’s still on the couch – it doesn’t look like he’s moved at _all_ – and sniffs.

“Smells like Chinese!”  [He bounds off the couch and sits down at the breakfast bar](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/19710171507).  “Ooh, pork egg rolls.”

“The crab rangoon are mine, but you can have a few if you’d like.”

Thor makes a face at the suggestion and starts on the egg roll he’s plucked from the bag.

“No thanks, I don’t eat crab.  They’re related to spiders.  That’s not going to happen,” he says, mouth full, and then continues after swallowing.  “So how’d the doctor go?  What is it?  Immaculate conception?  Tuberculosis?  Black death?”

Loki snorts into his rice.  If he wasn’t so terrified of Thor’s reaction he’d tell him the truth.  “No.  No, just – um – annual stuff.  You know.”

It’s quiet, and Thor licks the last traces of grease from his fingers.  He wipes them on a paper towel and looks sideways at Loki, resting the very tips of his fingers on the fine bones of Loki’s wrist.

“You know, I don’t want this to be awkward.  I really don’t.  But, uh, if you’re seeing Dr. Selvig, if it makes it any better, I do, too.”

Loki chokes on the mouthful of chicken he’s trying to swallow and Thor has to smack him on the back – hard! – a few times before he can get the bite down.

“How did – what – were you _snooping_?”  Loki’s eyes narrow and he jabs Thor hard in the chest with a bony finger.  He’s gone from terrified to nauseous to angry all in a span of seconds. “Were you going through my _stuff_?”

“No!” Thor says, hands up in the air, surrendering.  “No!  I just – he’s the only doctor that I know of down at that end of town, and – you’ve been twice in as many weeks – and I just, well, didn’t want you to think you had to lie to me or something.  I just put two and two together and – well, got four, you know.”

Loki narrows his eyes even more and he thinks, hard – he hides all of his therapy things at the bottom of his underwear drawer, so unless Thor had gone through his _unmentionables_ , he wasn’t lying and Loki knows the order of everything in that drawer, so that’s not a possibility.  Which means that Thor’s telling the truth.

He doesn’t know what to do.  He and Thor could commiserate on their misery together over chicken and rice but that would be awkward and even though friends talk, “talking about their mutual insanity” is not on the Friends List.

He turns back to his food and takes another bite, trying to think of something to say, anything.  His mouth works faster than his brain.  “This doesn’t change _anything_.”

“No, of course not.  Why would it?”

“Good.  I like being friends with you.”  And it’s out of his mouth, it’s _there_ , and he can’t take it back, because Thor heard it, and he turns, just enough, to see Thor smiling at him like Loki’s the sun on a rainy day.

“I like being friends with _you_ ,” Thor says in return, and they go back to their dinner.

It’s a strange night, Loki decides.  Maybe he should play the lottery, the way things are going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **fimm** \- five (íslenska)


	6. sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS NO SEX IN THIS CHAPTER
> 
> don't get excited
> 
> you there, in the back, I see you getting excited
> 
> the chapter title has nothing to do with carnal relations _you perverts_
> 
> also oh my god I forgot about Clint, I added him to my character list [here](http://lambscreams.tumblr.com/post/20157518398/shifting-your-shape-to-my-shells-character-list-and)

How do you bridge the gap once someone’s told you something so private and secretive that you can’t even imagine it?  How do you treat them afterwards?

Even though they agreed that nothing would change, that nothing was allowed to change even though they see the same therapist, something _did_ change; Loki can smell it.  He can sense it when Thor smiles at him, when Thor makes sure to gauge how he feels that day before he rests a hand on Loki’s shoulder.  He can sense it when Thor leaves him be after a long session, because Thor’s learned the days that Loki goes to see Dr. Selvig – Thursdays or Fridays – just like Loki’s learned the days that Thor goes – Mondays or Tuesdays, depending on if there’s an Engineering meeting.

Thor tends to get like Loki after his sessions – quiet and pensive, [happy to sit and watch the History channel with Loki or crack open a book](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/19743054108).  They don’t ever talk about what happens at Dr. Selvig’s, because that would make it too real, make them too much of the same and Loki doesn’t know how he would feel about that happening.  Sometimes he catches Thor watching him as he does his homework or putters around the apartment, but neither of them have touched the issue with a ten-foot pole.

Loki likes to imagine that someday they’ll be able to sit down and have a discussion over coffee about what they talk to Dr. Selvig about, but he doesn’t think that will happen any time soon.  He would ask Dr. Selvig about it but that would be a breach of patient-doctor confidentiality, and he knows that Dr. Selvig would never break that trust for either of them.

He does wonder, though, as Thor naps on the couch one day, what issues someone like Thor could have.  He seems so confident and self-assured, able to conquer anything that he sets his mind to; Loki wishes that he could be that way.

Sometimes they just sit at the breakfast bar, after dinner or a late lunch or a midnight run to McDonalds, and they just sit and think and [Loki watches Thor and Thor watches Loki](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/19753731683), like there’s nothing to be said or anything, and Loki thinks, _this is what it means to be friends_.

* * *

Loki comes back from his latest International Business lesson _steaming_.  He slams the door and Thor’s head pokes out around the corner of the study nook, and just the look on his face asks Loki what’s wrong.

“She’s a _cunt,_ ” Loki hisses, kicking his shoes off into the wall.  They leave a scuff mark and normally Loki would care, but he can’t bring himself to do it.  “She’s a cunt, and I hope that she gets – herpes, or something.  That’ll be painful but won’t kill her.”

“Who?”

“Sif Godmor, that _insufferable_ bitch, I can’t _stand her_ , I don’t know how she got in this class.  She thinks that she has the _right_ to just _psychoanalyze_ me when I don’t ask her to, and then makes _me_ seem like a jerk in front of the entire class when I tell her to piss _off_ , and ugh!”  He throws himself on the couch and buries his face in a pillow.  The rest comes out muffled.  “She said that I wouldn’t work in a group because I was far too ­ _self-centered_ and didn’t want to be _dependent_ on anyone.  That bitch.”

“Wow, Loki.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, is it, Thor?”

“No, but I’m still allowed to feel bad for you.  What did you say?”

Loki feels the couch dip near his feet and he lifts them up at the knee to let Thor sit properly then drops them back on Thor’s lap without really thinking about it.  “I just told her she didn’t know me, and to keep her snub, psychoanalyzing nose out of a business course.”

He feels Thor settle into the couch behind him, his hands coming to rest on Loki’s calves.  “What did your professor say?”

“She wasn’t there.  She had left earlier because it was just a meeting day for our groups,” Loki says with a sniffle.  “It had been such a good day before that, too.  Darcy and Jane and I met for coffee, and we had scones, and then I had a really good discussion with my advisor about what I want to do after my anthropology independent study ends.  Then this stupid class rolled around and she _ruined_ it.”

He curls his fingers into his hair and tugs at it for a moment, trying not to feel sorry for himself but it just isn’t _working._

“Well, I know you don’t like being around a lot of people, but Tony – my lab partner – he’s having a dinner thing tonight and he told me to come, and bring you if you wanted to go, so – it might make you feel better?”

Loki rolls the thought around in his head for a minute, seeing how it tastes.  He doesn’t go out.  It’s the fourth week of classes and he hasn’t gone out except for with Darcy and Jane – which usually means going to the library or the movies or to the city to the art institute.  It seems like it’ll be a good time, but he doesn’t _know_ Tony, save for a few chance meetings on campus, but at the same time – Tony only lives a few blocks away so if it gets to be too much, he can always come home.

“Ok,” he tells Thor, and the answer surprises even him.

“Ok?  Great!”  Thor slides out from underneath him and then, making Loki squeal with either mirth or upset – and even Loki can’t really tell, because this is the first time this has happened – he slides his hands under Loki’s armpits and wraps his arms around him, pulling him up off the couch and against Thor’s chest. 

“I’m so glad you’re going to come!” Thor says, giving Loki one of the only hugs he’s had in a long while.

Loki lets Thor hug him for a few seconds until Thor lifts him a few inches off the ground – even though Loki’s taller, Thor still has _pounds_ of muscle on him – and carries him into the bedroom to get dressed.  “You’ve got to look snappy, because Tony’ll judge you based on style.”

What has he _signed_ up for?  And why is Thor touching him not sending him into a tizzy?  Loki blushes red and lets Thor rifle through his wardrobe to find something appropriate.

* * *

Tony’s house is, for lack of a better word, _huge_.  The area is known for its large houses, but this defies even what Loki thinks is _appropriate_.  Tony is all smiles and glitz but Loki knows from what Thor has told him that Tony’s surprisingly insecure, kind of like them.  Loki scoffed at first, but this whole dinner party makes it more apparent.

Tony hands Loki a glass of wine – white, thankfully, not red – and ushers them in to let them mingle, but not before Tony pulls Loki aside to introduce the people.

“That’s Pepper, my best friend, you’ve met her, right sweet cheeks?” (The term seems to be directed at Pepper rather than Loki, and she just rolls her eyes and moves on.) “Then Bruce, my housemate here – don’t get him started on science _anything_ – and Clint, my other housemate, who’s an ace at darts, don’t let him challenge you to a game, you’ll lose.  And I know you know Darcy and Jane, unless they lied to me.  Oh, and this is Steve, Steve-baby, come meet Loki!” and he pulls another muscled blond out of thin air, it seems, and tugs him into an embrace.

“Loki, this is Steve.  Steve, Loki – Thor’s roommate.”

“Nice to meet you, Loki,” Steve says, offering a hand.  Loki glances at it, then at Tony, then back at Steve, whose smile falters a little.

“Loki’s a bit of a germaphobe, Steve, don’t take it personally,” Tony murmurs, patting Steve on the arm.  “We’re lucky we even pulled him out of his bubble to come!”

Loki can’t help but smile – for all of Tony’s faults, he’s a damn good liar.  And he doesn’t mind lying for the sake of Loki, even though he doesn’t know Loki that well – he knows Thor, and Thor’s his friend, and Tony’s told Loki before: “Any friend of Thor is a friend of mine, as long as they like to drink.”

Steve smiles at Loki again.  “No problem, no problem.  I’m going to check the roast – are you coming Tony?”

“Maybe later, darling,” and Steve blushes bright red and Tony laughs, then follows Steve to the kitchen.

Loki feels adrift for a moment, and he doesn’t really mind it.  There could be so many things going wrong right now, but he feels ok, feels better than he has in days.  This is just what he needed, to get out of the apartment and have fun with people, even if he doesn’t know them so well.

Well, with the exception of Thor and Jane and Darcy, that is.

Speaking of Thor – he turns to find his roommate speaking with Pepper and makes his way over there.

“Hey, Loki, how are you?”  Pepper smiles at him.

“Good, and you?  How’s your French paper coming?”

Pepper shrugs.  “As well as it can, when I’m tutoring a ton of people who can’t even speak French as it is.  But all right.  Yours?”

“Not bad,” Loki says, but after a moment he adds on, “do you want help tutoring?  I’ve got the spare time.”

Pepper pauses with her glass of wine – hers is red, the same striking shade as her hair – halfway to her mouth.  “Really?  You’d do that?”

Loki shrugs.  “Keeps me busy, and I know that you’re the best in the class – I wouldn’t want your grade to suffer at all.”

Pepper pats him on the shoulder, the amount of touch that she knows he won’t mind.  “That’s amazing!  Do you have time after class on Monday?  That’s when I have the most students.”

“Yeah.  I’ll just go with you after class to the Language Learning room.”

Loki smiles, and it’s a good feeling – being able to help people, talk with people, let them know that he’s not some quiet person that doesn’t or can’t work well with others.  Maybe this is just a bid to prove people wrong – especially Sif – but at the same time it feels good to work through issues that he knows that he has, issues that he knows can’t be fixed by sitting and talking with Dr. Selvig.

Pepper turns to leave but only turns halfway before she looks back at them.  “I forgot – Tony wants me to get pictures of everyone that’s coming to put on Facebook.  I’ll just take one of the both of you!”

Without thinking about it, [Thor tugs him close and rests and arm around his shoulders](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/19177411117), and the smile Loki gives Pepper is a real one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **sex** \- six (íslenska)


	7. sjö

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: uh child abuse? offspring abuse? we'll go with offspring abuse (albeit brief).
> 
> sorry this took me so long to get up! all of a sudden I realized that I have 3 25 page papers to write and had only started one, and grad school papers are pretty intense so those, sadly, took precedence. anyway, thanks for being patient!

One morning, Loki goes out to the balcony to smoke a cigarette – his father is coming for family night and he’s _dreading_ it, petrified with how his father will act and how things will go, and his nerves are completely shot.

[Thor’s already out there, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/19762061677).  Where Thor gets it, he doesn’t know – he suspects that Thor pinches it from the business below them, because they don’t get mail or anything to their building, that’s all on campus – but without fail, Thor reads the paper every morning.

He curls into the other chair, reading over the swell of Thor’s bicep as he lights his cigarette.  Thor ruffles the paper and scoots over a bit to let Loki read at the same time; if Loki gets up early enough to catch Thor before he goes running on Saturdays, this has become a routine: get up, [smoke a cigarette](http://littlelovenest.tumblr.com/post/8535408680/do-you-mind-if-i-dont-smoke), read the paper with Thor, nap while Thor’s running, make omelets when Thor gets back.

Thor makes to turn the page, but Loki isn’t finished with his article yet so he reaches out and grab’s Thor’s wrist.  It’s an automatic movement and he doesn’t even think about it until he realizes that he’s brushing his thumb over Thor’s pulse point to the beat of his heart and Thor’s _letting_ him, completely complacent with Loki touching him.

His first instinct is to pull away and run, flee the scene, but just then Thor turns his wrist in Loki’s hand, shakes Loki’s fingers off his wrist and rather than pulling away, he curls his fingers around Loki’s.

Loki’s breath stutters in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do or how to act now, because Thor’s grip is strong and sure and he doesn’t really _want_ to pull his fingers from Thor’s palm.  He doesn’t want to stop being touched, doesn’t want Thor to let go of his hand.  It’s a new sensation because he doesn’t like being touched – except in rare circumstances, and in regards to which people can touch him, it’s a rather short list: his brother, Darcy, Jane, and now Thor and Tony (as long as Tony doesn’t get too touchy-feely with him).

His blood is pounding in his ears and his cigarette is burning out, long forgotten, watching as Thor sets his cup down on the little table on his other side, turning a little in his chair to look at Loki.

[How has he never noticed how _blue_ Thor’s eyes are](http://a-flawless-difference.tumblr.com/post/20982391155/chris-hemsworth-at-the-avengers-los-angeles)?

“Is this – is this all right?” Thor asks him, fingers tightening around his for a split second.

Loki chokes on his inhale and coughs for a moment before deciding on the cigarette as a bad idea and stubs it out on the edge of the balcony.

“Why _wouldn’t_ it be all right?”

“Well, I don’t even know if you – if you’re – “ and Thor just makes a flapping motion with his free hand, and Loki has no idea what that means.

He thinks for a moment and then it dawns on him – Thor has _no idea_ if he’s gay.  None.

_Oh._

This would be _hysterical_ if it didn’t concern hand-holding, which Loki is quite fond of, thank you very much.  Just with certain people, and only those people.

Loki sighs and he doesn’t know how to tell Thor that he’s gay without sounding condescending, so he just – does.

“Oh,” Thor says, sheepish.  “I didn’t know.”

“How could you _not_ know, Thor?”  he snorts, pulling another cigarette out of the pack with his free hand and lighting it, taking a long drag before letting his head loll to the side, watching as a blush flows down Thor’s face.

“I don’t like making assumptions!”  Thor exclaims.  “And I don’t want to fuck things up with you.  I don’t want to make you dislike me.  I like _you_ , I like living with you.  I know you’ve got your issues, and I do, too – and I know we don’t talk about them, I know that, but I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“The only thing making things hard for me are my own neuroses, and the fact that my father will be here this afternoon.  You’ve done _nothing_ to make this difficult, Thor,” Loki tells him, smiling slightly.  “If anything, you’ve made this so easy and nice that I can’t believe that you’re a real person.  It’s like this is some strange world where I’m not crazy.”

“You’re _not_ crazy, Loki.  You can’t be, because crazy people don’t know they’re crazy, so.”

Loki throws his head back and laughs.  “Thank you for making me feel better about myself.”

* * *

Farbauti meets him outside the dining hall where the family dinner is, and he is just as intimidating as always.

“Son,” he murmurs, “nice to see that you’ve dressed up for the occasion.”

Loki glances down at himself – he’s just wearing nice jeans and a black dress shirt, something that he _does_ consider nice, but he knows that Farbauti probably expected nothing less than a full suit.

“Regarding that, father, [I’ve got nothing to say to you](http://littlelovenest.tumblr.com/post/8780034642/duh) – it’s an informal dinner.  I didn’t think to dress to the nines.”

Farbauti looks up sharply from his Blackberry, and Loki knows that he’s hit a raw nerve and he’s going to get yelled at when they’re in a less public place.

“Be that as it may, you are well aware of what I expect from you, Loki.  Don’t play dumb with me,” he hisses, and jerks his head towards the door.  “Let’s get this over with.”

The visceral loathing that spikes through Loki’s stomach is both familiar and unwelcome.  He doesn’t even want to be with his father for the night, because he knows his father dislikes the area and the people but, most of all, his father doesn’t really like him.  What he wouldn’t give to have his brother here, because at least then there would be conversation, but Farbauti isn’t about to take Byleistr out of New York for something as trivial as family functions at Loki’s university.

Dinner is predictably awkward.  Loki reckons they don’t speak more than 20 words to each other, and that’s a high estimate.  As soon as possible they’re leaving the dining hall and if you were to ask Loki, he wouldn’t even be able to really tell you what was for dinner, much less how much of it he ate.

[He clambers into his father’s rental car](http://bambistark.tumblr.com/post/8450406401) and they just sit there, Farbauti scowling out the windshield until he grunts, “Am I taking you back to your room?”

Loki nods.  “Yes, please.”

After his attitude before, Loki knows the way to go is total politeness and it’s tense and awkward for the 10 minutes it takes to get back to the building and Loki’s not surprised when Farbauti parks the car and follows him in.

Thankfully Thor’s not there and Loki braces himself for the explosion that is bound to happen.  Farbauti is not kind at the best of times, and he can’t imagine that he’s going to forgive him for talking back any time soon; after all, even though Loki’s 21 and an adult, Farbauti is a firm believer in always respecting ones’ parents, and that includes not speaking back.  He sets his things down and begins to turn to listen to Farbauti’s tirade.

What he doesn’t expect is the backhand across the face, glancing his nose and making him clutch at it, the spike of pain sudden and frightening; Farbauti’s never struck him before, never.

[Blood begins to trickle from his nose](http://bambistark.tumblr.com/post/3045610709/poor-bb) and he just stares up at his father, scared and incredulous that Farbauti _struck him_.  His father’s face is contorted in anger, so angry, angry in a way that Loki’s never seen except for when his mother died.

“Mind your tongue, boy, or I’ll take it from your head.  I’m your _father_ , do you understand?  I’ll not have my child speak to me in a manner like that.  Do you understand?”

Loki doesn’t know what to do, how to act, and when Farbauti starts forward he flinches backwards and nods.

“I can’t _hear_ you, boy.”

“Yes, father.  I understand,” Loki mumbles, hand still clutched around his bleeding nose.  It’s dripped all the way down his chin now, splotching his front and dripping onto the carpet.

Farbauti nods, looking as though he has more to say on the matter, until his face steels and he snorts.  “Take this as a warning, Loki.  I shan’t tolerate your bullshit, is that clear?”

It’s still terrifying to Loki, that Farbauti’s _hit_ him, hurt him and he doesn’t answer because he doesn’t know what answer won’t get him backhanded again, and Farbauti takes a step forward and Loki turns to show his back to him, protect his face from further abuse.

“Is that _clear_ , Loki?”

“Yes.  Yes, father,” Loki whispers, trying not to cry because if there’s one thing that his father cannot and has never tolerated is crying.

Farbauti snorts.  “Good.  I don’t expect you home for the holidays.”

Loki can hear him turn on his heel and leave, and [as he hears the door open he turns to make sure his father is actually leaving](http://black-nata.tumblr.com/post/8832159257).  Farbauti leaves without a backwards glance, and Loki slumps to the floor, trying to stem the bleeding of his nose without getting any more on the carpet.  He stays there, sides heaving as he takes deep breaths and tries not to hyperventilate, tries not to collapse in on himself.

It takes what seems like forever to get himself together, to stop his mind from racing and sending him into a panic attack, and all he wants to do is get in bed and stay there, never come out and sleep for days, weeks, months.  He picks himself up off the floor and before he cleans himself up, he needs to clean the blood off the carpet – otherwise it’ll stain, he tells himself, and that will drive him crazy, that will _wreck_ him more than he already is.  He doesn’t pay any attention to the drying blood on his chin, to the fresh blood trailing sluggishly from his nose as he scrubs the floor clean.

After he’s done, he leans against the wall of the breakfast bar, licking his lips and his mouth is flooded with copper.  He catches his reflection in the window across the room and he’s wrecked, blood smeared across his face and deep red against his pale skin and he begins to sob, deep sobs that have him curling into himself and breathless, salt and rust mixing in his mouth.

The door opens and he tries to collect himself, tries to stop sobbing into his palm, but when Thor comes in and stops, still and silent, mouth open in shock, Loki just begins to cry harder.  His family crowds the doorway, peering over Thor’s shoulder and Loki can’t get his legs to move to take him somewhere they can’t see him.

Thor, though, mindless of the mess that Loki is, mindless of the blood and spit and tears, just kneels next to Loki and pulls him to his chest and lets Loki weep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **sjö** \- seven (íslenska)


	8. átta

Thor wants nothing more than for Loki to go to the police and make a police report.  It’s all he talks about that night after his family has left and Loki’s cleaned the blood from his face and put his shirt to soak in the sink.

Frigga helped patch up his nose, told him how to keep the blood from dripping down his throat and making everything taste like he’s licked a rusty car.  She tells him that it’ll bruise pretty badly, and he should be prepared for that but otherwise no one says anything to his face about what happened and how Loki ended up that way.

Loki curls up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and holding a cup of hot tea – not really drinking it but just holding it for the sake of having something warm in his hands.  Thor paces back and forth in front of the TV, anger and tension radiating throughout his entire body.  Every so often he glances at Loki and seems to get even angrier, until he final throws himself down on the couch next to Loki, almost jostling the tea right out of Loki’s hands.

He doesn’t say anything for a long while, just sits and taps his fingers on his knee, playing out some rhythm before moving to grasp Loki’s bent knee through the blanket.  His hands are large and warm, and Loki can feel the warmth soaking through the blanket.  Loki takes a moment to get used to the sensation of someone touching him – the entire night seems like a bad dream, a blur that he doesn’t know how to cope with.  Thor’s hand is like an anchor, weighing him down and bringing him back to a safe place.

Carefully, he unwraps his right hand from his mug and gently, so slowly, rests his fingertips on the back of Thor’s hand, letting himself get acclimated for a second to touch again.  It’s like baby steps once more, more reason to wonder if he _is_ actually crazy.  After a few minutes – long minutes, it seems, so long – the world hasn’t fallen down around his ears, hasn’t exploded into chaos, and Loki slides his fingers to twine with Thor’s.

Thor tightens his fingers around Loki’s almost to the point of pain, and he grunts out, “I don’t understand why you won’t talk to the right people.”

Loki sighs and takes a sip of his tea – it’s almost too lukewarm and bitter, but he needs something to do – and mulls over his answer.  “If I were to pursue any action, it would only end poorly for me; you don’t understand who my father is back home.”

“Well, why does it matter?” Thor says, gesticulating wildly with his free hand.  “He _hit_ you, Loki.  He hit his _son_.  That’s not right – you don’t hit anyone, much less a loved one!  It’s not right.”

Loki tugs his hand free and runs it through his hair, idly thinking that he needs to take a shower – if not to wash his hair, then to get the stink of blood off his skin – and rolls his shoulders in a shrug.  “I shouldn’t have provoked him.  I know better.  I just – he normally doesn’t react like that when I talk back; he normally just yells at me and then it’s over with.”

“That’s no reason for anyone to strike you!” Thor spits, rocketing off the couch and back to pace in front of the TV.  It makes Loki curl into himself a little more, wonder why Thor’s so angry with him.  “There’s no reason to strike anyone for any reason.  It’s abuse, and it’s ridiculous!  Because you chose to have an opinion different than him – if everyone went around hitting people with different opinions than them, we’d be at war all of the time.”

As Thor whirls to say something else, his face full of thunder, it’s an instinctual reaction to duck his head and curl into his blanket, hide his face and try to keep it safe – something he learned from high school, the way to protect his face from fists and feet – and clutches his mug to his chest, trying to not to spill it or drop it.

“Oh,” Thor murmurs, “Oh, _Loki_.”

He can hear Thor shuffle across the carpet and the couch sinks down where Thor kneels next to him.  Thor doesn’t touch him, not at first, but then a hand settles onto the curve of his back, pressing into the knobs of his spine where they almost poke out through his skin.  Thor lets out a slow breath, and Loki wonders _why_ things are going the way that they are, _why_ they can’t just be normal friends or whatever they might be becoming.

“I would _never_ hurt you, Loki,” Thor mumbles into his ear, breath warm and close.  “I’d never raise a hand to you, because you’re one of my best friends.  I know we haven’t known each other that long, hardly at all, but I feel like we’ve been friends for years, for our entire lives.  I wouldn’t ever do anything to change that.  Please believe me.”

Loki nods into his lap, but can’t bear to look Thor in the face right now and let him see how wrecked he is.  He doesn’t want Thor to know how the events of the night have made him like liquid inside, sloshing around and just ready to spill out all over the place; his emotional cup runneth over.  All he wants to do is cry or scream or break things, or maybe all three and even though all of his doctors have told him that it’s ok to get angry and let his emotions rule for a second, he hates letting his emotions win like that.

There are many things that he hates about himself, and that is at the top of the list – there’s no reason to be that emotional.

“I – I guess, it’s late.  I’m going to get ready to go to bed.  Do you – do you want to shower first, before I get in bed, or …?”

Loki shakes his head.  “I’m going to stay out here for a bit.  Go to sleep.”

Thor doesn’t say anything and Loki doesn’t need to look at him to know that Thor wants to talk more about what’s happened, wants to get Loki to take care of the issue with the authorities.  He knows, though, that any action that he takes will just be squashed down by his father and his law firm – they’re one of the best firms in the country, and they’re not going to be pushed about by the son of the head of the firm.  It’s just not done – that’s not how the socialite world works.

The door to the bedroom snicks shut and Loki raises his head, glancing at it and then out the window.  The wind is strong tonight, and the trees are being buffeted about; that’s how Loki feels, raw and whipped and not at all himself.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, watching the wind in the trees.  His tea has gone stone cold, though, and he gets up to dump it out and rinse his mug out.  He flicks all the lights off and creeps into the bedroom, trying not to wake Thor who’s snoring gently in his bed.

He showers until the water runs cold and his fingers are wrinkled, scrubbing until he feels raw but clean, cleansed of what happened before, cleansed of the blood and the tears and all the things that he’s felt over the course of the night.

He is so tired that he can barely pull on his pajamas and collapse into bed.

* * *

The next morning comes far too early.  Thor’s already gone – Sundays he goes to brunch with the engineering department, and normally he and Tony come back to work on their projects – and [Loki manages to get dressed before collapsing back into bed](http://littlelovenest.tumblr.com/post/8704210656/sad), contemplating what he needs to do.

He needs to call his aunt and make sure that his brother is all right – he doesn’t often talk about issues like this with her, but she has more influence over his father than Farbauti would like to admit.

He needs to bump up his appointment with Dr. Selvig.  He has to get an appointment tomorrow or Tuesday; if he needs to, he’ll use the emergency number but at the same time he doesn’t want to be _there_ yet.  He can _wait_ , he tells himself.  He doesn’t need to use that emergency number right now, he’s not _that_ upset.

Well, he isn’t, until he looks at himself.  The bruise has already begun to blossom over his face, already deep purple underneath his eye and across his nose.  It’s hideous and ugly and he doesn’t want to go out in public because people will _know_ that someone’s hit him.  He wishes he had some of his old stage makeup from his drama days, just to cover it a little bit.

He _could_ call Darcy, or Jane, but they’ll ask questions and want to know what happened – and then it dawns on him, that he could always call Natasha.  They’re not that close, not at all, but she’s in the language department and has been there for him before.  She won’t tell his secret.

He sends her a text, asking if she could pop in before morning classes tomorrow and she responds in the affirmative, and that’s a weight off his shoulders.  He tells her that it may be an odd request, but to please bring some good foundation.  She responds in the same way, not batting a virtual eye, but he knows that she’ll ask some questions in the morning.  At least with Natasha it’ll be less Spanish Inquisition and more gentle curiosity.

He knows he shouldn’t go back to sleep – he has at least an hour of French translations to work through – but sleep is so tempting, and his bed is so comfortable.

When Thor and Tony come back, Thor goes to check on Loki and finds him curled up in bed, face pressed into the pillow.  Thor smiles, gently, and gets the blanket from his bed and drapes it over Loki.  Loki snuffles into his pillow and pulls the blanket closer, and Thor knows then that he would do anything to protect this person, this friend, whatever Loki’s going to become.

He also knows that he has to tell Tony – he has to figure out how to help Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **átta** \- eight (íslenska)


	9. níu

Natasha brings coffee with her when she comes the next morning, and she doesn’t say anything for a long moment as Loki sips at his cup – French roast with a little cream and sugar – but sighs loudly.

He sets his coffee down on the counter and she grasps his chin gently (when did she move into his personal space?) and tilts his head down; she’s a fair bit shorter than he is.  She moves his face with infinite care, looking at the bruising that now spreads from his nose to under his eye and across his cheekbone; even his eye is bloodshot and yellowed from the force of the blow.

She tuts and lets him go.  “He walloped you, then?”

“Who?”

“Your _father_ ,” she sighs at him, tinged with annoyance at his passivity at the situation.  “He’s the only one who would hit you like that, _moi drug_ , and I know it.”

Loki shrugs and grabs his coffee and moves to the couch and Natasha follows him, sitting on the coffee table and resting her chin in her hands.  “If you’re going to yell at me, I’m not in the mood for it.”

Natasha sighs again and rolls her eyes before rummaging around in her bag and pulling out a little palette of stage foundation.  “I’m not going to yell at you for something that’s not your fault.  Now move forward into the light, you’re so goddamn pale.”

He does so, until his knees bump the edge of the coffee table and he can see all the little freckles sprinkled over her nose, how the green in her eyes changes and shifts from light to dark.  He supposes that she’s attractive in the way that women are, sometimes, but more than anything he’s thankful that she hasn’t asked any awkward questions that he can’t answer.

She tilts his head up a little and softly, gently, swipes the sponge of foundation across his face, hiding the worst of the bruising under a layer of cake foundation.  His phone chirps and he picks it up without dislodging Natasha.

**From: THOR  
 _sent 8:48 AM_  
bagels at the hub 930**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 8:49 AM  
_ Are you asking me or telling me?**

**From: THOR  
 _sent 8:51 AM  
_ asking you also tony says hi sweetcheeks**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 8:53 AM  
_ Ok. I’ll be there. Also tell Tony to blow me.**

**From: THOR  
 _sent 8:55 AM  
_ he says name the time and place**

Loki snorts a laugh and Natasha smiles at him as she pulls away.  “You look all right now, Loki, but you can still see it if you know it’s there.”

The smile that Thor’s text gave him fades a little.  “Well, hopefully no one will notice that it was there to begin with.  Soon it’ll start to fade.”

Loki stands and goes to grab his bag, but [Natasha catches him at the wrist and looks up at him](http://whedoning.tumblr.com/post/21385804057), eyes deep and tense and there’s something lurking there that has always sent a chill down his spine.

“You know that if you need someone to – help you out – that I can, yes?”

Loki flushes.  He knows that some of Natasha’s family are on the – well, the criminal side, but for her to just _offer_ it up like that is jarring and, even though he’d never tell anyone, frightening.  “I don’t think that it’s _that_ bad of a problem, Natasha.”

She scowls at him and repeats words that Loki has heard from Thor: “Parents should not harm their children, Loki.  The offer is there.  I’ll walk you to the Hub,” she finishes, gathering her things.

He doesn’t know how to refuse her.

* * *

Loki finds Tony and Thor at one of the larger tables, sheets of paper spread out and they’re hovering over them making notes.  Thor looks up as Loki approaches and the smile that he gets is both blinding and confused, because Loki knows that Thor is expecting to see the livid bruise across his face.

“Natasha helped me out this morning,” Loki responds to the unasked question. 

Thor straightens from the table and tilts Loki’s head to the light – is _everyone_ going to do that today? – to get a good look at his face.  The Hub is empty this morning, and Loki doesn’t mind that Thor is touching him, but it’s the _way_ that Thor is looking at him; it’s intense and caring and _deep_ , and no one has _ever_ looked at Loki that way, and –

“Should I, like, leave you two alone for a bit?”

Thor blushes bright red and turns back to the table, smiling but almost awkward at the same time.  “Sorry, Tony.”

“No, darling, it’s fine, just peachy, it’s like watching two awkward teenagers flirt for the first time, just adorable,” Tony coos, waving a sheaf of papers in the air.  “All we need now are some little birds to twitter around you guys and some cute bunnies, and my _god_ we would have an amazing chick flick!”

“You’re an asshole, Tony,” Loki murmurs, slouching into one of the chairs that isn’t occupied by books and schematics.

“I’m not denying it, baby, I know what I am,” Tony smirks, winking at Loki.  “Take a bagel.  Want to know what we’re building?”

Loki takes a blueberry bagel as Thor rounds the table back to Tony’s side, ripping off a chunk and swiping it through a tub of cream cheese.  “If you think you can tell it to fine arts student, Tony.”

[Tony slides his glasses on and looks at Loki over them](http://mss-americanpie.tumblr.com/post/21424481161/yes).  “I could tell it to _dog_ and have them understand, it’s one of my many – gifts.”

Thor smirks and rolls his eyes behind Tony’s back.

Loki has to stifle his laugh by shoving another piece of bagel in his mouth.

“Ok, so, I’m gonna assume that you know some stuff about robotics and you’re going to humor me and let me tell you everything.  I’m going to act like you care, because you’re emotionally despondent from your issues with your father, and [Thor’s going to stand there like a beefcake version of Vanna White](http://insouciant-.tumblr.com/post/20487671236),” Tony rambles.

“ _Anyway_ Thor and I are working on two prototypes right now – one robot that’s for use in schools and business as a kind of – well, a multi-tasking robot, but right now all we have in mind for it is a semi-sentient fire-fighting personality, that can spray pressurized foam to put the fire out,” Tony tells him, fishing a drawing out of the pile.  “We’re calling it Dummy for now.  Can’t think of a better name just yet.”

“We want to build it first,” Thor adds, “because then we’ll know its full capabilities and how far we can push it; then we can give it a proper name.”

“The other thing, though, that’s our baby,” Tony sighs, and Loki sees his face soften and he smiles in a way that he only does when he’s thinking about Steve.  “JARVIS is our ultimate goal.”

“JARVIS?”

“Just A Rather Very Intelligent System.  An AI system housed in _anything_ , anything you could think of.  In a house, a car, even the clothes you’re wearing – that knows you and the people you know, connected directly to data lines and sentient, an AI that cares about your well-being,” Tony says, plopping down into a chair to gesture around at the Hub.  “Imagine, an AI system in here, that would know what each person wants.  You need more coffee? JARVIS will order it for you.  Want lunch now?  Tell JARVIS and he’ll have it brought to you.  Have a question about something but no computer to look it up on?  JARVIS can access all the websites and data collections that you can on the web – and more, if we can swing it – and tell you the answer, with so little delay it’s like it’s magic.”

“The sheer possibilities of the mechanics are mind-boggling,” Thor breaks in. “And it wouldn’t have to be a stationary device. We’re thinking of the stationary JARVIS systems – built into a house that would connect to you via phone if you were out of the house – but also mobile androids, humanoid or other, that you could interact with like a person. It might cut in to some industries, but a lot of people would be interested in it, we think. It could have potential in dangerous work places, you know?

“Like mines, or something?”

Tony nods.  “Not just that, though; war zones, chemical spills, biohazard situations, things like that.”

Loki pops the last of his bagel in his mouth, chewing slowly while he thinks.  “If you could get funding, grant money, you could do something amazing.”

Tony sighs and his face falls, and he begins to stack all the papers back together.  “The funding is the problem.  The grant for the engineering and robotics department is from my family, an endowment given by Stark Industries.  We’re not eligible because of that, so we’re stuck in limbo.”

“Oh,” Loki mumbles, “I didn’t know.”

Tony shrugs.  “Yeah, well, it’s not something I like to talk about, and oh look, there’s Pepper, I’m going to go and bother her to take my mind off things,” he says, all in a rush, and then he’s gone from the table.

Thor moves from where he’s sitting next to Loki and he doesn’t even wait to twine his fingers with Loki’s and it makes warmth blossom somewhere in the vicinity of his sternum.  “How are you really, Loki?”

Loki shrugs.  “My face hurts.  I don’t know what to do.  I just want to act like none of this has happened, like it was all a dream.  Being here though, going to classes and doing normal things, talking with Tony and Natasha – that’s making it better.”

Thor nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“What should I _do_ , Thor?”

Thor’s fingers tighten around his and Loki knows at that moment that he wants nothing more than to get away from his father, to get out of his clutches, and make a family of his own where he can take care of his brother and his friends and _Thor_ , always Thor, because it seems like even though they’ve only known each other for a few months he never wants to get away, never wants to let Thor go.

The thought almost spirals him into a panic attack but he is _okay_ with being with Thor, he likes being touched by Thor and talking to him and listening to him snore at night and swear at the Xbox when he’s playing video games.  He likes listening to Thor hum while he reads, something that Thor probably doesn’t even know that he does.  He likes when Thor tells him about engineering like he actually understands what he’s talking about, when Thor tells about all the interesting things that Dr. Coulson is doing with the engineering students and all the plans that he’s making to build crazy things.  He likes it when Thor tells him about his family – stories that Loki is jealous of but at the same time loves hearing about – and assures him that he’ll be coming home with Thor for the holidays, even before the incident with his father.

He turns and looks at Thor and it’s like, all of a sudden, Thor sees what he feels and his face _brightens_ and _softens_ all at the same time and Loki knows, knows like he knows the maps of scars across his wrists and stomach and legs that Thor thinks the same things and they’re going to be _all right_.  It might be hard, ridiculously difficult, but they’ll work through it and come out on top on the other side.  Loki has to think that way.  There’s no other option, there’s nothing else that he can think of that would make everything turn out all right.

“I think we need to talk to someone about what happened.  I really do.”

Loki nods and swallows around the boulder in his throat.  “Will you come with me?”

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **níu** \- nine (íslenska)


	10. tíu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the record, I love that you guys are enjoying this - i have gotten so many wonderful comments that you all make me blush!
> 
> This is going to be the last chapter for about a week or so because I am moving for the summer from Kentucky back to Chicago, and I have some loose ends to tie up before I leave. After I get back to Chicago, I'm going to be busy dealing with stuff in my personal life. I don't know if any of my lovely readers remember that my dad was very very ill, and we ended up losing him to cancer in March. So we're getting some stuff done regarding his will and old properties, etc etc so I'll by busy IRL much to my sadness (because I really enjoy reading your comments and writing this).
> 
> so please be patient, lovelies, and hopefully I'll be back with a new chapter around the 1st of May, give or take a few days.

It takes a week or so before Loki can even think about contacting someone other than Dr. Selvig about what happened.  Dr. Selvig doesn’t say anything about contacting the police or anything like that, but Loki knows that he thinks Loki should.  Dr. Selvig tells him that if he wants to bump his appointments up to twice a week he can, but Loki doesn’t want to grow dependent on them.  The fact that Dr. Selvig feels like Thor does makes him question what he would have done if he didn’t trust them, and makes him wish for just a second that he could be a normal person again.  It just pushes him slowly in the direction of making the appointment with Dr. Fury, the Dean of Students. 

After his appointment with Dr. Selvig, Loki is surprised to find Thor waiting for him with a cup of hot, milky tea and a hug.  Thor pulls him close and Loki sighs, comforted by the warm sun smell that Thor has, like sweet summer and wheat, and thunder storms that light up the night sky.  He hasn’t shaved in about a week and his beard has grown out in such a way that Loki can tell that it’s no longer scratchy and before he realizes what he’s doing, he rubs his cheek along the line of Thor’s jaw like a cat.

Thor’s fingers press into the small of his back as Loki _nuzzles_ him, for lack of a better term, and his breath stutters in his chest and it makes Loki’s heart flutter.  As they stand there in the sunny afternoon, Loki knows what he wants more dearly than anything right now, and that’s to press his lips to the pulse that thuds beneath Thor’s skin.  He doesn’t fight the compulsion, and Thor’s skin tastes like he smells and it’s a glorious thing and it doesn’t make Loki scared or nervous, and that’s so surprising because even when he _tried_ to be with Darcy, he was scared out of his wits.

“Loki,” Thor whispers and Loki can feel the words vibrate up and out of this throat and Loki smiles against Thor’s throat.

He steels himself for a moment, gathering his wits to make sure that this is what he really wants – that he won’t be afraid, that this won’t freak his shit out more than it has been as of late – and then he tilts his head up from Thor’s jaw and presses his lips to Thor’s.

Thor doesn’t do anything for a second and Loki wonders if he’s misjudged the situation, misjudged how Thor felt about him and then Thor pulls him closer, fingers biting into his hips and then Thor’s tongue is in his mouth and it’s like no kiss he’s ever had before (not that he has had many at all to compare it with).

He’s not sure which one of them pulls away for breath first or maybe they pull away at the same time, and Thor’s lips are kissed red and Loki likes how that looks, likes that he was the one to make Thor look that way.  It makes a streak of possessiveness rise up in his chest like a beast and he doesn’t know exactly how to quell it but at the same time he doesn’t care to stop it.

Thor’s face breaks into a smile and he licks his lips, like he can taste Loki there and it makes warmth spread across Loki’s face.

“Hi,” Thor says.

“Hi,” Loki responds.  He doesn’t know what else to say.

“I brought dinner.  Um, we could eat it on top of the hill at Memorial Park, if you want,” Thor says, almost bashful, but he hasn’t let go of Loki’s hips.

All of a sudden, Loki feels particularly affectionate – something that he hasn’t felt for anyone other than his brother in a very long time – and he rubs his nose against Thor’s in an eskimo kiss with a smile.  “That would be very nice.”

* * *

Loki finishes eating before Thor does and [he sits and watches Thor pensively](http://littlelovenest.tumblr.com/post/8577986806), letting him finish his sandwich and chips before he brings up other matters.

“Dr. Selvig thinks that I should talk to someone about what happened.”

It’s the first time that either one of them has brought up a therapy session, the first time that Loki has spoken to it to someone other than Darcy.

“He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but … I can tell.  I can tell what he wants me to do, even if he doesn’t say that,” Loki answers, drawing his knees up and resting his chin on them.  “And I’ve been thinking about it as well, you know.”

Thor licks the last remnants of mayonnaise from the tips of his fingers and for a second Loki is entranced by the fact that, a half hour ago, that tongue was in his _mouth_ and it didn’t scare him or anything and he actually _wants_ it there.  “What are you going to do, Loki?”

Loki shrugs a little.  “I guess I’ll go talk to Dr. Fury.  He’s the one that would be best suited, I guess.  I looked on the website and it says something basically to the effect that if you are having problems regarding the university and your family, to make an appointment to see him.  And I think this situation would qualify to see him.”

Thor nods.  “I think that it would as well, but I don’t want you to feel like – to feel like we’re trying to pressure you into anything.  I don’t want you to think that you have to talk to someone about what happened more than me or Dr. Selvig.  Shit, if you don’t want to talk to _me_ about it you don’t have to.”

“I want to talk to you about it, though,” Loki mumbles, blushing and running a hand through his hair.

“Oh,” Thor says in turn, and they just look at each other for a moment.  It’s funny how things are going, simply because Loki would have pegged Thor as super confident, very much in control but he doesn’t seem to be any more knowledgeable in the way of how they are going to proceed in their relationship.  Thor clearly wants to not make Loki hurt in any way, he wants Loki to lead them because Loki’s the damaged one (and Loki is fine with admitting this, he’s fine in knowing that he’s broken even if he’ll never admit it to anyone).  Loki appreciates that Thor isn’t pushing him, isn’t making him do anything that he doesn’t want to do but at the same time he wants _Thor_ to test his boundaries, he wants to discover what he is and isn’t comfortable doing with Thor by his side.  He wants Thor to map his scars with him, to learn who Loki was and who he is now.

He scoots over and snuggles into Thor’s side and Thor wraps an arm around him, smiling a little.  “I’m glad that you want to talk to me about it.  Maybe we should talk about things more often, you know?  Therapy related things, I mean.  If you want.”

“Not tonight. But we should,” Loki murmurs, rubbing his nose against the underside of Thor’s jaw.  Thor makes a noise low in the back of his throat and Loki can’t help that he’s feeling brave and bold, maybe from the fact that he’s going to get his life sorted or maybe from the fact that he knows Thor wants him like this, that they share that want, and Loki knows that it’s because of that feeling that he sinks his teeth into the join of neck and jaw.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Thor hisses, and he shifts closer to Loki, brings one of Loki’s legs to cross over his knees to give him something to hold on to.  Loki worries the flesh there between his teeth gently, but hard enough so that he knows there will be a mark so that everyone knows that Thor’s taken, that someone has a claim on him.

When he pulls away Thor’s eyes are even bluer than he remembers and he’s looking at Loki like he doesn’t know what to do with him.

His voice is deep and rough and it sends shivers down Loki’s spine when he says, “When you’re ready, and only when you’re ready, I’m going to fuck you until you _scream_ my name.”

“Guh,” Loki says.

Thor grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tíu** \- ten (íslenska)


	11. ellefu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys, so much, for all the wonderful comments and waiting for the next chapter. we're all moved in to our new house (officially!) and we turned over the keys to our old house yesterday. we managed to sell everything in the cavernous garage except one motorcycle (we had 7; my mom only kept one) and one truck, which is pretty awesome!
> 
> so thanks to all of you guys, for being patient. much love! i hope that you can stand the wait for the next couple of chapters but you have all been so patient with me i cannot imagine not having it out by monday or tuesday. I'm not seeing the Avengers until my mom is off next week, so there will be **no Avengers spoilery things** in this, though it's an AU so it's not like it really matters but jsyk!

Loki has never noticed what a tactile person Thor is.  He’s not used to the physical affection that Thor uses with him, and at first the touches – even though he _wants_ them, wants them so badly – make his skin crawl.  It takes a while for him to get used to them but once he does, if Thor _doesn’t_ touch him for a while Loki finds himself seeking out the curve of a shoulder or the rough pads of his fingers.

It starts simply – Thor would come up behind him while Loki’s working at his desk and rest a hand on his shoulder, his fingers stroking and pressing there as he asks Loki what he wants for dinner or if he wants to meet Tony for drinks at the bar across the street.

Then, when they meet on campus for coffee between classes and they take walks, Thor’s fingers will brush across his knuckles or bump against his leg, and if no one’s watching – not that they’re _ashamed_ of each other, no, but even the most progressive college town is still a minefield where gay rights are concerned – Thor will offer Loki an elbow to hold or he’ll wrap an arm around Loki’s waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of Loki’s shirt to press against the sharp ridge of Loki’s hip.

Sometimes, when Loki naps on the couch after class and before Thor gets home, Thor will wake him up by snuggling up to him, chest to back (because Loki _always_ sleeps facing the back of the couch, no matter what).  He’ll nuzzle against Loki’s ear, brushing the hair away from his face and Loki will drift from sleep to consciousness, warm and content.

He’ll catch Thor watching him sort through his papers, [watching his hands as he brushes over the stacks for each class](http://hiddles-hands.tumblr.com/post/18641863084) and flips through things.  Thor will come over from wherever he is and grab Loki’s hands, softly, and kiss each fingertip, kiss the palm of his hand, and travel up the delicate bones until he’s kissing each scar that he can reach under the cuffs of Loki’s sleeves.  He never asks about the scars, never presses, but Loki knows that he wonders about each and every one.

Near the end of October, Thor gets it into his head that he needs to teach Loki how to cook something other than Cream of Wheat or soup or raviolis from a can.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, it really did, but it becomes apparent that Loki could fuck up boiling water if left to his own devices.  So, Thor begins to teach him, slowly and patiently.  He likes to stand behind Loki, his large, warm hands encompassing Loki’s smaller ones, showing him how to hold a knife and chop an onion or take the seeds out of a green pepper, or _no_ , that is chopping, _not_ dicing, Loki.

It’s those moments that Loki loves the most, where he can lean back against the strength of Thor behind him and Thor will compensate for the added weight and he’ll stand there even when Loki has figured out whatever cooking technique, with an arm around his middle and his chin resting on Loki’s shoulder.

Sometimes, when Loki can’t do anything other than lie in bed and think or sleep, Thor will crawl in behind him and press soft kisses to the place behind his ear.  When he’s warm and nearly asleep, Thor will hum songs that Loki doesn’t know, sometimes singing softly in a language that Loki can’t understand and doesn’t really want to ask about.

When Thor drinks his coffee on the weekends, Loki will go out to sit with him but they’ve upgraded to a larger deck chair that they can squeeze into together.  They keep a blanket on the balcony so that Loki can curl up in it, under Thor’s arm, and smoke a cigarette or two as Thor drinks his coffee.

* * *

It’s not all good, though.  Darcy has stopped coming around the apartment, and Jane doesn’t seem to have any answers for him as to why she’s acting that way.  He tries texting her and calling her to no avail and though he would normally just go over to her apartment for some reason he just can’t bring himself to do so.  He spends more time with Natasha and Pepper, and gets to know Bruce and Clint better as well.

Bruce is quiet and studious, but when he opens his mouth _brilliant_ things spill forth, things that Loki easily admits that he can’t understand but it pleases him to hear Bruce talk all the same.  He’s working with radiation types, learning how they affect the human body and sometimes Clint makes the crack that it’s clear that Bruce has been affected simply by looking at the size of his brain, but Bruce never takes offense.  Clint, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to go to class at all but he’s still pulling a 4.1 GPA (which shouldn’t be _possible_ ) and can rattle off facts about rocks and fissures that Loki has never wanted to know.

He sees Sif once, hanging out with her friends and she says something condescending to him again and he shouts “ _Va te faire foutre, salope!_ ” at her retreating back, making Pepper laugh behind her hand when she tries to be disapproving and makes Natasha smirk and tell him that she deserves everything that she gets in life.

It’s one of the last sunny days in early November when Loki makes an appointment with Dr. Fury and gets an appointment that afternoon. He worries that Thor won’t be able to make it, but Thor meets him outside of Old East and tells Loki that this appointment is more important than his afternoon class, and that Tony promised to take notes for him rather than sleep through the lecture.

Thor grasps his hand as they walk up the steps to the front office and the secretary outside Fury’s office sends them right in.

Loki’s only seen the Dean of Students in passing, at his entrance to the college and then at requisite meetings of the college, but otherwise he’s never talked to the man.  He sits behind his desk and Thor has to give Loki a little push to get him through the door.

Nicholas Fury is tall, bald, and imposing; the eye patch only adds to the atmosphere as he gestures to the chairs and tells them, “Loki Laufeyjarsson, I presume.  I’ve seen you at meetings of the business classes, though we’ve never spoken before.  And Thor Hlodynarsson, still trying to find a grant to fund your project?  It’s promising, if you have the money.”

“Yes, sir,” Thor answers, pulling Loki’s chair out for him and it makes Loki blush for a moment before he takes a seat and Thor does the same.

“Now,” Dr. Fury says, steepling his fingers, “I do not think that you have come to chat with me about funding for robotics projects.  Am I correct?”

Loki nods and drums his fingers on his knee, trying to think about how to start this conversation but he can’t, really, other than stating the obvious.

“My father is abusive,” he says, and it sounds so wrong when he says it, no matter how true it is, and the baldness of the phrase makes Fury’s eyebrows rise almost to where his hairline would have been.

“How so?” Fury asks, but it’s not accusing, it’s not like Fury thinks he’s lying.  It’s just a question, just something to figure out the scope of what Loki’s saying to him.

Loki tells him, as much as he can, as much as he can remember.  He tells him about the death of his mother, about how he cares more for his brother than his father does, about how he has always feared his father but never to this extent.  He tells Dr. Fury about the family weekend and he just listens and observes and thinks and watches how Thor and Loki interact with each other.  Loki tells him about backhand and his nose, and how he worries for his little brother now that his father has actually resorted to physical violence.

Dr. Fury doesn’t say anything for a moment after Loki finishes his story, but then he takes a deep breath and begins to speak.  “I want you to understand, Loki, that anything we speak about here remains here until you want it otherwise.  However, I would recommend that you take action on this occurrence as soon as you can.  The faster you take action, the faster you can resolve the issues that you have here.”

Loki nods, and Dr. Fury continues as Thor reaches out and grasps Loki’s hand; Fury doesn’t bat an eye.

“Just because he is your father does not mean that he has the express right to harm you.  You are an adult with rights.  Even if you were still a minor, you would have the same rights; there is no reason to harm anyone, be they a relation or otherwise.  Because of the severity of injury that you suffered – and the fact that it was a visible injury – I would recommend that you would file a police report, even though the incident happened over a month ago,” Dr. Fury continues, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk before starting again.  “Even though he is your father, as I have already stated, you have a right to defend yourself and to not be injured by any person.  Is that clear?”

Loki nods again.

“What I would heartily recommend, Loki, is that you contact the Municipal Police Department, or let me contact them, and have a meeting – which I will attend if you so wish, but all the same, I feel that you need to speak to someone that has more knowledge in law enforcement than I do.  This is especially true since your father has legal knowledge as well.  If that is something that interests you, or something that you would like to proceed with, you will have to give me times that we can meet with some police enforcement.”

“I think that … I think I should.  Meet with someone,” Loki whispers, plucking at the strings from his shirt cuffs and pulling them until they snap and break and Thor’s hand tightens on his wrist to pull his attention to what he’s doing, and he stops.

He glances down at their hands, so different, and he thinks so clearly that there is nothing in the world that can take his want to be with Thor away.  There’s nothing that he doesn’t want about Thor and he doesn’t want Thor to leave him (though he doesn’t think that Thor _would_ ), and his fear of his father is not going to take that away from him.

He looks up, determined, and says clearly, “I want to speak with the police about what happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **ellefu** \- eleven (íslenska)


	12. interlude: tony

Tony is pretty good at reading people, thank you very much. He hasn't gotten this far in his life without being able to read people; after all, in high society life, if you can't read people, you can't make business deals, and if you can't make business deals, you're sunk.

Tony would prefer to never be sunk.

That’s why Loki’s such a _mystery_ to him. He can’t figure this kid _out_.

Steve tells him to let Loki alone, let him be and Loki will talk to them and come out of his shell eventually but Tony has never been a patient person. He can’t take waiting. It drives him _nuts._

He likes to build things and take them apart and annoy Steve and bother Pepper, but most of all, Tony likes to make lists about things, things that he has to do or not do or remember for the future or things that Steve likes or wants for Christmas.

It makes sense for him to make a list about Loki.

_WHAT DO: LOKI_

  1. Loki has a brother with a funny name that starts with a B
  2. Loki smokes L&M Lights (dark blue box) but will settle for L&M Ultra-Lights (light blue box)
  3. Loki doesn’t drink often (but when he does he drinks white wine (Riesling) and hates red, unless it’s sweet red) (what kind of person doesn’t like red wine?)
  4. Loki speaks French and when he gets drunk tends to speak that over English
  5. NOTE: DO NOT INVITE SIF TO PARTIES IF YOU INVITE LOKI/THOR (sif’s a bitch anyway)
  6. Don’t call Loki “babycakes”
  7. Loki pinches (NOTE: bruises last longer than with punches or otherwise)
  8. Drunk Loki = cuddleslut
  9. NOTE: keep tea in the house because Loki doesn’t drink coffee
  10. Loki’s father is a lawyer
  11. Mother?
  12. Loki can’t cook worth a damn (cooking lessons for Christmas?)



Every time that Tony hangs out with Loki he learns something to add to the list. Half of them have to do with Thor (maybe he should start a list about Thor, that would make sense) and it was clear to Tony from the get-go that they were going to end up together.

Is he good, or is he _good?_

Tony has a sixth sense about these kind of things. Steve says it’s because he’s nosy, but what does _he_ know.

Loki doesn’t come around much when he’s not with Thor but he does on occasion, mostly to hang out with Bruce and Clint and Steve. Tony’s almost always holed up in his workshop when Loki comes by, and Thor’s normally the one to drag him out from his cave and into the social world.

It makes Tony wonder if this is what Thor did with Loki, showed him that people aren’t all that bad and that Loki can be a people-person if he wants to be (but, at the same time, Tony knows how nice it is to be a recluse so he can’t blame Loki at all for being the way he is). When he sees them interacting he feels like he’s intruding, the way that Thor smiles at him and the small touches – it’s _cute_. (This is not to say that he and Steve aren’t the same way; Steve doesn’t approve of PDA (what a tragedy) so they keep it to a minimum outside the house.)

But after Thor tells Tony what his father did and Tony has to talk Thor down from the ledge of calling his father and getting a crack team of Aesir lawyers together to pummel this douche into the ground, Tony gets why Thor wants to bundle Loki up in fleece and snuggle him. He’s like this little wounded kitten that you want to love and take care of but won’t let you because he has teeth and sharp little claws.

It pisses Tony off to no end that someone would treat anyone like that, let alone their own kid. It makes Tony want to get _his_ lawyers from Stark Industries, as they’re the best there is; when Stane tried to take over Stark Industries after his parents died, they fought him back until Tony came of age and could appoint who _he_ wanted on the board and get things running. It’s a pity that he doesn’t have access to R &D until after he graduates, because he could really use some of that funding right now.

The funny thing is, really, and this is where he’s lucky to have Steve, who gets how his mind works: Tony normally sees someone like Loki, who is _totally_ his type, and almost always thinks “I will fuck that” before commencing _Operation: Seduction_ and getting them into bed. Before Steve was in the picture, of course; Steve’s all about sharing Tony as long as he has a say and is there and interacting but otherwise that’s a NO in all caps and big flashing letters and Tony loves Steve far too much to do anything other than that.

 _Anyway_ , Tony thought that for all of two seconds before realizing how dickish that was and, though it pains him to admit it, he was probably going about this whole “relationship” thing wrong before he met Steve.

But Loki just screams, in one of those big Las Vegas flashing neon signs DON’T TOUCH ME and Tony wants to know _why_ because he wants to help Loki, wants to make him not “better” because that’s an insult, Loki’s perfect the way he is, everyone is as long as they’re happy, but Loki _isn’t_ happy so Tony wants to help Thor make him that way.

Yes.

Tony has to formulate _Operation: Happy Loki_ with Steve and Thor and their friends because Loki needs something happy in his life that doesn’t center on college or drinking or sleeping or anything. Well, okay, maybe sex, but that doesn’t count because it’s natural and goddamn, everyone needs to get laid in Tony’s opinion.

He starts a new list.


	13. tólf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long haitus! I got quite ill after getting the chapter half-written and then got better, then got sick AGAIN and then we had things going on at home (new curtain installs, new windows put in, new kitchen appliances) so this is really the first time that I have had to be able to sit down and WRITE for a while without any distractions.
> 
> (also the dodge caliber (2012) is my new car! his name is Tony.)  
> (also if any of you reading this live in northern Illinois, the restaurant is [based on a real place](http://maps.google.com/maps/place?hl=en&authuser=0&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=Carlos+River+Cafe,+1707+Nish+Road,+Crystal+Lake,+IL&fb=1&gl=us&hq=Carlos+River+Cafe,+1707+Nish+Road,&hnear=0x880f6bd70915845b:0x73858f1c743206d3,Crystal+Lake,+IL&cid=16503987479689869280) and the food in BANGING, I eat there all the time!!)

After admitting that he wanted help in getting his life back – or starting it, again or finally, he’s not really sure – it feels as though his heart has opened or been flayed to pieces and he doesn’t know what that feeling _means_.  Normally Loki is aware of his heart, that it exists and he has one but it’s never been allowed to _feel_ like it should, but now it’s like he can feel the pumps of blood and pulse of muscle, that even though it’s a part of his body it’s as though it’s viscerally connected to his mind and perception.  Is that what it’s like for people that have not had the existence that he has had?

He feels as though this can’t be his life, this can’t be what is path was made but then at the same time maybe the path set down for him was meant to be messed with and changed and brought to different points, like those “choose your own ending” books that he used to read as a child.  If his mother hadn’t died he would have another ending; if she had but his father hadn’t lost his heart at the same time he would have another; if he had lost his brother as well, yet another ending.  It makes his head spin and the possibilities of the different paths make him wish that he had a _choice_ in the matter, but then again, everything that happened here was a choice of his.  _Thor_ was his choice.  There’s nothing else to be said about it.

The night after meeting with Dr. Fury and allowing him to set up the meeting with the police – Loki doesn’t know how it works, and Dr. Fury seems to have everything under control, so that’s one less thing for him to be bothered with – Thor takes him out to one of the nice Italian places and buys him dinner and when Loki complains about it – he _saw_ the bill, for the love of god – Thor just smirks and tells him to relax and let Thor take care of him as he is supposed to be doing.

It makes Loki’s face warm and makes him happy, that Thor wants to take care of him and make him happy where no one has done so before.  Thor’s happiness tastes like sun and honey when Loki thinks about it, and the sensation of _want_ prickles along his skin like static electricity, the same feeling you get during thunderstorms and electrical surges.

When they get home, Thor bundles him into his bed (it smells of Thor’s cologne and dryer sheets and makes Loki yawn) and strips him of his clothes, and it’s not the least sexual and before Loki knows it, Thor’s plastered to his back in his boxers and winding an arm around his waist.  Loki’s too tired to worry about what this means or how it makes him feel, except for the general sensation of _safe_ and _love_ and _perfect_.

* * *

Loki wakes to Thor’s snores, and now that he’s used to it and he’s so close to Thor’s chest, it’s just a rumble deep within the muscle and Loki finds himself thinking that he doesn’t know why he was annoyed by it before.  It’s comforting, like how his mother used to sing him to sleep before he called himself “too old” to have that happen (though, now that he thinks on it, pressed against Thor’s chest, Thor sings him to sleep sometimes, and it’s funny how things come full circle).  Thor mumbles in his sleep and presses closer to Loki, burrowing into Loki’s hair and breathing into the curve of Loki’s skull.  Loki presses backward and Thor moves with him, shifting to allow Loki into the circle of his arms and Loki sighs, still tired, and falls back asleep.

* * *

Loki wakes up to laughing and the sound of video games – Tony must be over, trying to beat Thor at something – and he blearily remembers that it’s a Friday and his class isn’t meeting today, so he doesn’t much care about what’s going on for the night.  He rolls out of bed, taking Thor’s blanket with him as a sort of robe and stumbles out into the living room and collapsing into the circle chair next to the couch.

“Good _morning_ , Sleeping Beauty,” Tony trills as he pounds on the controller.

Loki mumbles and curls further into the chair, watching Tony beat Thor into the ground on whatever co-op shooter they’re playing.  Tony crows with victory and he rolls from his position on the floor in front of the couch to Loki’s feet, resting his elbows on Loki’s knees.

“So, princess of the castle, Thor tells me that you’re going to take things to the courts.”  Tony rests his head in his hands and this time, even sleep-stupid, Loki can tell that Tony is being serious even through his words.

“Yes, I’m not sure what happens from here, though.  We just talked to Dr. Fury last night,” Loki tells him, reaching out and adjusting Tony’s glasses until they’re resting straight again, having been knocked askew by an exuberant gaming session.

Tony smirks, his grin crooked.  “I could tell you all about it, if you’d like.  I could give you the best lawyers around.  Or, you could concoct a crack team of lawyers from Stark Industries and Aesir Corporation and even though your father is a lawyer, we could _wipe the floor with him_.”

Even though Tony’s smiling, Loki knows that Tony doesn’t take betrayal well.  After Obadiah Stane tried to take over Stark Industries when Tony’s parents died and Tony couldn’t do _anything_ , and had to rely on lawyers that were loyal to the family rather than money – Tony doesn’t like people who abuse trust.  Tony holds his friends close, but one time that they break his trust it’s over.  For some reason, rather than making Loki wary of hurting Tony it makes Loki trust him _more –_ he knows that Tony won’t do anything to harm him.

“I think we should meet with the police first and then decide what action to take,” Thor adds, “but I know that my parents would allow us to use Aesir lawyers in a heartbeat.”

Loki nods.  “I think so, too.  But, Tony – if you think you _could_ –“ Loki mumbles the last part and Tony smile, a wide smile this time, not the public smile he normally has.

“I would so very much enjoy giving you access to my lawyers, Loki.”

* * *

Thor and Tony play video games from the morning until early evening, when Tony complains that he’s going to _starve to death_ and convinces Loki and Thor to go with him to the local burrito dive but of course, Tony being Tony, insists on taking his new car.  And, Tony being Tony, it’s not a _normal_ car: it’s a [2012 Maserati Quattroporte Sport GT S](https://docs.google.com/open?id=0B_sHiqsg8r_ZUFZVZDd4OU4yVGs) in Tony’s favorite color ( _[rosso mondiale](http://i46.tinypic.com/2dgjqcy.jpg)_ , a deep, brilliant red) with as many upgrades as he could order and a few that he’s done himself.  It’s a beautiful car, but it’s so nice and Loki knows that they’re very, _very_ expensive (as in, over $100,000 expensive) and Loki feels a little out of place, thinking about his [little red Dodge Caliber](http://i45.tinypic.com/2m695c6.jpg).  But Tony always likes the best and most beautiful things, so it is not as though Tony buys things to show off his wealth – he just likes things like that.  But Tony is also one of the nicest people that he knows, though the sarcasm and the flirting and the bad jokes, so he climbs in the seat and Tony takes off down the highway.

They drive for a while, until Tony pulls into a little restaurant by a river and Loki can’t believe that Tony would eat here, until they go in and the people greet him by name and the hostess brings them chips and salsa, and asks Tony how the robots are going.

Ordinarily, Loki doesn’t like Mexican food.  Too spicy, too greasy, too _much._   This food, however, Loki might sell his firstborn for.  It’s _amazing_.  Thor smiles at him after he eats, just because Thor knows that Loki doesn’t eat much and to clean his plate – literally, there’s nothing left of his chicken chimichanga with rice and beans – is an abnormal occurrence.

Tony lets out a belch and winks at the waitress, and it makes Loki wonder how Steve feels about Tony being so flirtatious, but then again the last time that Loki drank with their group of friends and Loki volunteered to take Steve home (since Tony was being taken home by Thor) Steve said that he was more than okay with Tony flirting as long as he flirted the most with Steve.

Loki wouldn’t be okay with that.  Thor is nice to everyone and takes care to be kind, but he doesn’t flirt shamelessly like Tony does.  He makes sure to touch Loki when they’re out, a hand on the shoulder or the small of his back, or sometimes under the table he’ll trace his fingers up and down Loki’s thigh, or if he’s feeling particularly brave he’ll slide his hand in the back pocket of Loki’s jeans.

Thor sticks to his side and it’s clear that they’re not available, even though neither of them has come out and said that they’re together.  It’s just understood, and when they smile at each other sometimes they’ll catch Clint and Tony making kissy faces at them, but that’s okay, because they get it and they’re not being _mocking_ , just being _them_.

Loki curls into the back seat this time, making Tony quip something about being “fat and happy” and Loki doesn’t have the energy to be offended or something else, and drops off into sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tólf** \- twelve (íslenska)


	14. interlude: natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! real life has been kicking my ass. So has Assassin's Creed.
> 
> Anyway, here's a chapter and expect another (I PROMISE THIS TIME) by Monday or Tuesday because I go back to work tomorrow!! Hooray!

Natalia Alianovna Romanova is not a fool.  She is many things - strong willed, steady, good looking, intelligent - but she is not a fool.

She cares about the people she is friends with, but she knows they do not confide in her as much as they confide in other people.  Perhaps it is because of her family connections that they are wary of her; what they don't know about that family is that it's not even really her family.  She doesn't remember her actual parent's names; she was raised for as long as she can remember by Ivan Petrovich Romanov.  She was raised by the _bratva_ in Volgograd and they taught her well: not just how to fight and survive, but how to be smart and cunning, and how to use all of the resources at her disposal.  Most of all, though, they taught her to take care of her friends.

When she would complain about her friends, the few that she would actually call friends, Ivan would smile and cuff her on the shoulder and say, " _Staryi drug, luchshe novykh dvukh_."  An old friend is better than two new ones.

Even when she forgets the other things that Ivan thought her, that saying stays with her.

She and Loki are not old friends; they met during welcome week and they hit it off.  They were both quiet, but for different reasons: Loki quiet because he was terrified of everyone around him, aside from her and Darcy, and Natasha because of how thick her accent still was.  They made a good pair, slinking around quietly and pretending to not exist until they actually started to get along.

In most things, they are like fire and ice.  Natasha enjoys people and parties, physical things like fencing and lacrosse and kick-boxing; Loki prefers to be alone or just with a few friends, and he loves to sit still and read.

Natasha thinks his mind is a treasure.  Loki is one of the people that can read something once – just once – and have it memorized.  Natasha would say that he has an eidetic memory, but it’s completely impossible to tell if that’s true or not.  He can recall things on a dime as long as he understands them.  It fascinates her.

Natasha can remember things well, but only what she needs to; as soon as it becomes superfluous, she doesn’t take the time to think about it.  There’s so much that needs to be remembered over what doesn’t need to be remembered.

She likes listening to Loki talk about the things that he’s passionate about: the stars, French, Thor.  Sometimes he goes on tangents that she doesn’t understand, but she knows that rarely does he have an interested audience, so it doesn’t hurt to listen.

That’s where the problem comes from, she thinks: from years of not having someone that was willing to take the effort to listen.  It’s not as though Loki talks incessantly, no, or about things that are incredibly esoteric; he just _talks_ , as all people do.  And he likes to know that people listen, that they have been paying attention and can give him feedback.

It hurts her to the core when she first finds out how his father treats him.  It’s a little after the winter term begins of their sophomore year, and Loki comes back from the 6-week vacation quieter and stiller than ever.  He doesn’t talk about how his vacation was until one night, when he and Natasha are watching _Through the Wormhole_ that he goes to scratch an itch on his ankle and she sees the finger-shaped bruises that ring his wrist.  She grabs his arm and pulls it towards her and it is the first time that he has ever flinched away from her.

She doesn’t need to ask who caused them, and she just looks at him for a moment, wondering how anyone could want to hurt him, when he shrugs his arm away and says lowly that he’s been hurt worse and by other people.

He rolls up his sleeves then and she doesn’t know where to put her eyes, on the old scars that have dulled over time or the newer scars that still shine pink, that can’t be more than a year or two old.

That’s the first time that they share a bed, and it’s not sexual – Loki holds no attraction for her – and he tells her what he can, in his soft, soothing voice, and she just listens.  That’s what friends do.

He tells her about his family and his father and his mother’s death, and how much he loves Byleistr but he doesn’t know how to make sure that he isn’t treated like Loki is.  He likes to curl his fingers through her hair (he tells her that he wishes that he had hair like hers, fiery red and curly but he does like his all the same), and when he falls into deep sleep he mumbles words that she can’t make out.

He doesn’t speak about it much after that, but Natasha makes sure to check up on him when she goes home to Volgograd for the summer and they Skype as often as they can, when the time is all right for the both of them – late at night for Loki, midday for her – and he keeps her posted on the socialite affairs of New York.

When Thor enters the picture she worries that Loki will be unsure as how to act with him, but Thor more than breaks the barriers that Loki has set for himself.  Natasha finds Thor loud and boisterous and more than capable of taking care of them both (though Loki will never admit to that) and he has friends that do the same for Thor as she does for Loki.

The first time that Thor brushes a kiss over Loki’s forehead in her presence Loki turns bright red and looks to her as though seeking her approval, and she just smiles a little and raises an eyebrow, and when Thor leaves to go to a meeting and Loki just watches him for a moment as he walks out the door, Natasha can’t help but smile again and tell him, “’So dear I love him, that with him all deaths I could endure, without him live no life.’”

When he looks confused, she elaborates.  “John Milton, Paradise Lost.  Book nine, line 832.”

“You remember all that?”

“I remember a lot of things, _moi drug_.  Not all of them are ways to kill someone with a paperclip.”


	15. þrettán

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tw: discussions (albeit brief and not in-depth) of abuse**
> 
>  
> 
> so it's wednesday, I said monday or tuesday, eh, that' pretty close! I did have this finished last night but I am sick YET AGAIN so it took a while for me to edit it this morning, and it's rather detail-heavy rather than dialogue-heavy as this has been so far. I really recommend looking at the links to understand what I'm basing my research on, as well as asking my mom (who works with the police) about what would happen in this circumstance as far as law enforcement goes, but after that I am pretty much flying by the seat of my pants. hooray!
> 
> thanks for all the lovely comments, I love that you guys are loving this and it makes me really happy <3

Loki is scheduled to meet with Dr. Fury the Friday before finals, which worries him simply because of how _close_ it is to finals, but he only has one exam to worry about – his French speaking final – and Thor constantly tells him how good he sounds, and helping the underclassmen with their speaking seems to be allowing him to be better.

He frets about it all of Thursday, pacing back and forth across the living room until Thor tugs him down onto the couch and Loki lets him, burrows into the warm space between Thor and the cushions.

He doesn’t know how to feel about anything – about this meeting with Dr. Fury, about his feelings for Thor, about life in general – and he doesn’t want to tax any of his friends with his frenzied ramblings about things.  He doesn’t even want to bother _Thor_ with them, though he knows that Thor would listen.  He doesn’t like to talk about things in his head with Thor, simply because what he and Thor have seems to be so tenuous and delicate and liable to break.

It reminds him of the [táng huà](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sugar_painting) he saw when his aunt took him to Shanghai one summer with her family, right before his mother died.  Táng huà are delicate paintings made with molten sugar, and they seem strong when you first see them lying flat, but once you touch one – once you hold one in your hands – you can feel how little it would take to shatter it into a million pieces, with no way of putting it back together.  That’s what the relationship feels like and Loki doesn’t _want_ it to feel that way but he doesn’t know how to make it so that it _isn’t_ like that.  Who do you ask for relationship advice when you can’t even _talk_ about the relationship?

Thor’s breath begins to even out and soon enough he’s snoring, cocooned around Loki.  Thor falls asleep easily, quickly, and when he does he’s liable to sleep for a good while, so Loki just rolls over in his arms – and even that is not enough to wake him – and turns the TV on, flipping channels until he settles on yet another History Channel program about the end of the world.  He watches TV until Thor’s gentle snores are enough to lull him to sleep – as they should, it’s nearly one in the morning – and he doesn’t wake until Thor does in the morning.

Thor moves slowly, trying to keep from waking him, and it never works but Loki appreciates it all the same.  Thor gets ready for his morning class and before he leaves, he brushes a whiskery, scratchy kiss over Loki’s forehead, makes Loki smile and stretch up for another, this time on his lips, and another, and another, until Thor pulls away murmuring, “I’ll be late, I have to go, I’ll be late,” and he hurries out the door.

Loki sinks back down into the couch with a sigh. 

* * *

He paces in front of Dr. Fury’s office.  It’s cold but he doesn’t even notice it, it doesn’t faze him because there is so much else on his mind that he can barely think about anything else.  It’s like his carefully crafted filing system in his brain has been ransacked by thieves, looking desperately for something that was never there to begin with.  All of the drawers have been pulled from their cabinets and the papers and pictures are scattered all over, and to put everything back together would take a very, very long time.  In a span of ten minutes he’s smoked more cigarettes than he would like to admit and it’s almost 3 o’clock, he only has a few more minutes to put himself together, and then Tony comes running up the path.

He tries to speak but all that comes out is a wheeze, and he doubles over trying to catch his breath, sweat dripping down his face.  Loki puts a hand on his shoulder, meeting momentarily forgotten in his concern for his friend and Tony reaches up and pats it after a few seconds and straightens a little.

“I am the messenger, so don’t shoot me,” Tony says between breaths.  “Thor’s booking his way from the stadium to here to make it on time.”

“But – but he has an appointment today,” Loki stutters out.

“Said it was more important to be here than there,” Tony says, slumping against a tree and pulling a cigarette out from a pack he has fished from his pocket.  “I don’t question what he says, I just bring you the messages.”

Tony takes a long drag and passes it to Loki, who grimaces but accepts.  Tony Stark being Tony Stark, he only smokes Pall Mall reds and Loki thinks they taste like death but his pack is nearly empty.

“I should probably quit, you know, given that I think I might be dying from that jaunt up the hill, but it sure does hit the spot,” Tony continues.  “Ain’t nothing like a good smoke, and I know you agree.”

Loki nods and leans next to Tony on the tree.  “We all have our vices, Tony.  Yours just happen to be very dangerous, especially when combined.”

“Eh,” Tony shrugs, “that’s why I don’t combine them.  Anyway, I should be going – you’ve got a ton to do.  But if you need me, call me.”

Tony pushes off from the tree and before he can register it, Loki has wrapped a hand around the strap of Tony’s computer bag, tugging him back a few inches.  He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but then swallows deeply and it feels like he has a grapefruit in his throat, and squeaks out, “Come up with us?  To the meeting?”

Tony raises an eyebrow.  “You really want me up there?  Fury and I don’t have the best track record.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Loki whispers, “but I don’t want to go up there with someone that doesn’t know what this is like.”

Tony takes along drag from his cigarette, ignoring the hand that Loki still has wrapped his bag.  He flicks it to the ground and grinds it out with his toe, and with a sigh and a slight smile he nods.  “All right, kid.  I know what you mean.  I’d be honored.  I’ll try to just sit there all quiet-like and not say anything that will upset Fury more than he already is with me.”

Tony plays it cool, as though he’s not at all surprised by this, but Loki knows that Tony didn’t think that Loki liked him that much – which couldn’t possibly be true, Loki loves Tony, finds him funny and sarcastic and hard to get through to but a wonderful friend to both Thor and him – and it makes Loki wonder how damaged Tony really is inside, if Tony is just like him but in different ways.

“Thank you, Tony,” Loki says and releases the strap of Tony’s bag as Thor comes barreling around a curve in the path and nearly takes them both out before he manages to come to a skidding stop.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, “sorry I’m late.” Thor wipes the sweat from his brow and smiles at the two of them.

Loki tells himself that everything is going to be all right as long as he breathes deep, as long as he keeps breathing.

* * *

The meeting is not at all what Loki expected.

The first thing that Detective Evelia Lopez does is smile.  It’s not a fake smile that Loki has seen other police give him, the rich son of a lawyer trying to report the abuse of his father that they don’t buy.  She smiles at all three of them as they troop in, Thor still panting, Tony brushing imaginary lint from his jacket and Loki peeling the skin away from his lips with his teeth, a nervous habit from his childhood that he hasn’t been able to break.

Dr. Fury nods at them and motions to the chairs set out – Tony drags one in from the hallway – and they sit.  She starts out telling them that she works on almost all of the domestic battery cases in the MPD not only because she wants to fight for the rights of the people that may not be able to voice their dissent, but also because she has master’s degrees in both criminology and psychology.  She tells them that she wants to help them as much as she can with the case, but without concrete evidence of what took place it may be difficult.

She tells them about the differences between [battery and assault](http://www.womenslaw.org/statutes_detail.php?statute_id=6234), as well as the different kinds of battery and what applies in this case and in the state in which they live.

She sets some pieces of paper in front of Loki.  “Domestic battery isn’t just a husband hitting a wife.  It is when a person causes bodily harm to any family member or makes physical contact of an insulting or provoking nature with any family member.  It’s not a felony here, just a misdemeanor.  If convicted of domestic battery, as a Class A misdemeanor will get a sentence of up to a year in jail and a fine of $2,500.”

“That’s it?” Tony interjects.  “That’s all?”

She spreads her hands out in a plaintive gesture.  “There’s a mandatory minimum sentence, which is conviction, which cannot be expunged or sealed under any circumstances.  If it is a second offense, and the defendant is convicted, it becomes a Class 4 felony offense with a penalty of one to three years in prison.  If there is great bodily harm, which does not seem to be the case here, it becomes a Class 2 felony punishable by three to seven years in prison.  They are light sentences, which we are trying to change.  But change is hard, especially when the lawmakers have different ideas about what’s important.”

“That’s fucked up,” Tony says.  “A guy could abuse his whole family and that’s all that would happen?”

“The law does allow for harsher penalties where minors are concerned, but otherwise, I’m afraid to say that you are correct,” Detective Lopez says with a grimace.  “You hear about people getting put away for abuse and think, yeah, that’s great, until you find out what the sentence is and how little it actually does, especially if the plaintiff does not get an order of protection.”

She looks to Loki and taps her fingers on a form, then slides it across the table.  “In this situation you would be eligible to file an order of protection.  It would apply here, but you’d have to file a certified copy in your state of permanent residence, New York.  I would recommend that even if you do not choose to proceed with a case against your father that you file an [order of protection](http://www.womenslaw.org/statutes_detail.php?statute_id=5092#statute-top) against him for your best interests.”

Loki can’t pick it up just yet, but he traces the edge of it with a fingertip.  Thor’s hand rests on his knee under the table and it gives him enough strength to slide it on top of the pile of papers that he already has.

“What would it do for me?”

She smiles a little, not really a smile but just something to let Loki know that she’s pleased that he’s asking, that she thinks this would be something that he should pursue.

“It would do exactly as the title says.  It would not allow any abuse of any kind.  It would not allow him to enter a residence of yours, be it owned or rented by you – in this case, your apartment because the college has leased it to you.  It would give you a right to live in that residence.  There is also a presumption of hardships, which essentially means that the court will award you some kind of balancing of households; the court might order the accused to provide alternate housing to the home you share – in this case, your father’s home – instead of excluding him from the residence, since the house is in his name. You with me so far?”

Loki nods, and she continues. “It may also provide for a ‘stay away order’, which means that he would have to stay away from you or any other person covered by the order. It may require the respondent to undergo counseling, especially if there is a minor child involved – which there is. Because of that, the order may grant you care of the minor in question or order the respondent to put the minor in the physical care of a person in loco parentis.”

“An aunt or someone like that?” Loki asks, already thinking of his brother and what may have been going on at his home when he is not around.  It makes his stomach curl and twist and roil something awful, and sets his teeth on edge.

“Yes, probably an aunt, or someone that he is close to that would be able to provide for him financially.  It may also grant you payment of support for you or the minor, as well as order for payment of losses – things like medical expenses, lost earnings, repair of property, court costs,” she finishes.  “There are a lot of things that the order may or may not grant.  It depends on what has happened over the years, what you have _proof_ of happening.”

“What if I have proof of the abuse?”

“Then we have a case to investigate,” Detective Lopez says and leans forward over the table.  “Do you have proof, Mr. Laufeyjarsson?”

Loki looks to Thor, who nods, and then to Tony, who shrugs in that cavalier way that he does, a yes without actually saying it.  He looks to Dr. Fury, who has said barely a word the entire meeting, even though he was the one to arrange it, the one to suggest it.  He still does nothing, only looks back at Loki like he holds all of his interest, but not suggesting a thing.

Loki sits for a moment, quiet, contemplative, and thinks about all that he has been through, all the things that he doesn’t want Byleister to go through.  He thinks about the scars that map his skin, all the things that have been said to make him hate himself or his life or his father and how much he doesn’t want that to happen to his little brother, the one person in the world that he loves more than his own life – the only person aside from Thor that loves him in the same way.

He thinks about his mother, and the man his father was before she died, and how she wouldn’t have wanted things to go this way, but that he would have never wanted him to allow his father to hurt him.

He thinks about all these things and looks at the detective staring at him from across the table, and tells her, “I have proof.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **þrettán** \- thirteen (íslenska)


	16. fjórtán

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a horrible, horrible person and I am going to hell when I die because of how this chapter ends. nothing horrible, you know, except, well, cliffhangers.
> 
> eh, send me your anger, I will convert it to COOKIES.
> 
> also another reminder that [i have, of course, a tumblr](http://l0ptr.tumblr.com). also [a twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lambscreams).

“I didn’t know that you had taken pictures,” Thor says later that night as they’re curled around each other in the [circle chair](http://www.overstock.com/Home-Garden/Rattan-Papasan-Chair/4613030/product.html).

Loki’s had a good cry and though it doesn’t solve things, doesn’t make them easy, he feels better simply for the release of something inside his chest that he didn’t know was there.

Loki reaches up and tangles his fingers in the strands of hair that have escaped Thor’s loose ponytail.  “Tasha took them.  The night after she came over in the morning to help me.  I didn’t want to, but – she can be persuasive.  I don’t know.  I think she knew what would happen in the end, in that way of hers.”

Thor grunts, but doesn’t say anything.

Loki twists to look up at Thor now, at how his eyes are hard and focused on the wall across the room and not at him.  He tugs on the stray hairs he still holds gently, just enough to get Thor’s attention and make him look down, finally.  There’s still an angry twist to Thor’s mouth and Loki doesn’t quite know what is causing it.

“Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Thor grunts, shifting his weight below Loki to settle more in the middle of the chair, with Loki splayed across his lap.

“It sounds like you are, though,” Loki tells him, and Thor just grunts again, looks away for a second, then back.  His mouth opens a few times before he finally lets the words escape.

“She _touched_ you.”

The words are low and they are angry in a way that Loki has never heard, and he has to think about them for a moment – who touched him? Why would that matter? – when he realizes that Thor is talking about _Tasha_ , because she’s the only person who touches him aside from Pepper (who is firmly single), Jane (who is enamored with one of her fellow physicists), and Darcy (who he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of for weeks).  It almost makes him laugh but at the same time, he doesn’t _understand_ where this anger comes from.

“I don’t understand.”

Thor tries to wriggle away from under him but Loki has just enough muscle to pin him to the chair, but barely and it’s difficult, and Loki is worried that this will delve into something that he isn’t willing to do, isn’t willing to go through so soon after having his nerves so frayed and damaged and after a few seconds of them struggling against each other, Thor sinks down again like his muscles have all failed him, his head tipped back against the chair.  He lets out a deep, wavering breath and then looks back at Loki, who clings to the fabric of Thor’s shirt as well as the edge of the chair.

“She _touched_ you, and you let her, and you don’t flinch away from her like you flinch away from me, and I dunno how to _help_ you, Loki, I can’t figure it out and I feel worthless.  I don’t understand why you’re with me, because I can’t treat you like your friends do – because I can’t be helpful and caring because I’m scared of _myself._ ”

Loki’s brow furrows and he turns to face Thor, straddling his lap and resting most of his weight on Thor’s knees.  “But you touch me all the time.”

“That’s not the problem!” Thor lifts his hands from where they’re gripping the sides of the chair and for a split second Loki thinks, _he’s going to hit me_ , before the thought vanishes as Thor traces his thumbs over the ridges of Loki’s cheekbone, following the curve under his ears to tug him forward, gently, until they’re resting forehead-to-forehead.

“The problem is that every time I touch you, you flinch, and I know it’s because I can’t – I can’t control how I _move_ , how angry I get about things and I’m _trying_ to be better, I am, but I’m not worth the time that you’re giving me, because I can’t help you,” Thor whispers and blinks and a tear falls from his eye, and Loki doesn’t know what to say and he can’t pull away.  “I love you, more than I love anything else and it’s strange, that after so little time I can’t be without you, but at the same time – I know that I’m not _helping_ you.  At all.”

Thor kisses him them, slow and deep and he tastes of coffee and misery and Loki arches into him, crowding his space wrapping his arms around Thor’s neck until he can’t breathe for kissing Thor, doesn’t want to breathe because then he’ll have to answer and he doesn’t know what to say to Thor about how he feels.  Thor pulls away and presses his face into the curve of Loki’s neck, panting.

He threads his fingers through Thor’s hair, pulling it out of the ponytail holder and combing the tangles from it, silent and thinking and wondering how he missed this. It’s easy to figure out when he thinks about it, because he was so absorbed in his problems – not that he is not allowed to do so – that he couldn’t recognize anything that may have bothered Thor.  His familiarity with Natasha must have bothered Thor, not because Thor doesn’t trust him but because he’s never really said to Thor all the things that he has in his head about how he feels.  He doesn’t have dependent personality disorder, that’s something that he knows; his life doesn’t depend on making Thor happy but it makes him feel _better_ about himself, that he can make someone pleased.

He doesn’t form relationships just because they hurt him, but this relationship with Thor – this is so _different_ and so _good_ that he can’t give it up, he won’t give up on Thor or himself or the relationship just because he’s _afraid_.  That Thor thinks that it’s his fault when, in reality, it’s just Loki being inadequate in his own mind ( _yet again,_ it reminds him) so there’s no sense at all in _Thor_ feeling that way.

He doesn’t know how to tell Thor that he’s not worth it, that in the end that Thor will end up being hurt because Loki can’t cope with anything, that Loki will stop trusting him (like he does with everyone), that he loathes himself in the most severest of forms but he’s trying to _stop_ , to see what other people see in him – what Darcy used to see in him and what Natasha must, and what Thor sees in him, but it’s so hard, so taxing that it _exhausts_ him.

“I love you,” Loki whispers instead, cradling the back of Thor’s skull in his hands, and continues, “I don’t know what I would do without you.  You help me so much that I don’t know how to thank you.”

He realizes as he says it that it marks the first time that he’s told someone that he loves them and means it in a very long time, probably since Byleistr was born.

“You don’t – you don’t _scare_ me, I’m not afraid of you.  I’ve just – you know how they say that if you’re crazy you don’t know it?  I know I am.  I know that I’ve been conditioned to act how I do.  I _know_ it.  I’m not scared of you.  I just don’t know anything _else_ ,” Loki finishes, listening to Thor breathe into his neck and Thor presses his fingers into Loki’s lower back, tracing the bend of his spine, flitting up to fit under his armpits and _lift him_ off Thor’s lap and cradle him into his arms before standing and wordlessly carrying Loki to his bed (not Thor’s, for once, they always seem to end up in Thor’s bed but not this time).

“I fucking _love_ you,” Thor rasps, fitting himself on top of Loki, pressing in all the right places, lips flying over his skin to press wet kisses there, “I love you so much I don’t know how to explain it.”

Thor crowds in his space, breathing over his throat as he licks his way down and under the collar of Loki’s v-neck, and Loki lets him because he wants it, he wants it so badly it _burns_ him, like fire spreading from his neck to his chest and all the way to the bottom of his feet.  Thor tugs off his shirt and then levers Loki up, and Loki thinks to not let Thor do it, but he _wants_ to so he lets it happen and Thor tosses it over his shoulder, landing on Loki’s [Spathiphyllum](http://www.englishgardenraleigh.com/blooming-plants-spathiphyllum-%2812-inch%29-p-2931.html) in the corner.

He begins to throw his arms over Thor’s shoulders but Thor catches his left one, thumbing over the thick scars for a moment as though he’s never seen them before, like they’ve just appeared overnight.  Thor pauses for a moment, just tracing them, before he tugs the wrist up to his mouth and licks a thick swathe from wrist to the bend of his elbow, and Loki can’t stop the moan that bubbles from his throat at the action.  Thor repeats it on the other arm before Loki can – is allowed? – to clasp his hands behind Thor’s neck and tug him down for a kiss that turns  messy quickly, Thor slanting his mouth down Loki’s neck to let him moan and pant.

Thor is kneeling over and him and Loki feels _dominated_ and _caged_ and the most surprising thing is that he _likes it_ , that he loves how he knows that Thor can pin him and capture him but not if Loki doesn’t want it, not if Loki doesn’t _let_ him, and the thought is so powerful and arousing that he can’t help it when his hips arch off the bed at the thought of Thor pinning him and fucking him (even though he’s not ready, not yet, but _soon_ ) and press up to Thor’s and Thor grinds down, frotting against him at the same time that he captures a nipple with his mouth; Loki _wails_ , because he’s never done something like this, not with someone he cared for this much, and the sensations are _overwhelming_.

Thor chuckles against his chest and moves to the other side and Loki tugs at his hair, pulls him up, and he gasps out, “I’m not ready, I’m not, I _can’t_ ,” and Thor nods and though he knows how difficult it must be for him, Thor just lowers himself to the bed and crowds Loki against the wall to sleep, as Loki always does.  Thor slips one hand under him to wind around his waist and presses a kiss to the shell of Loki’s ear as Loki gasps and pants against his pillow.

“I know you can’t, I know that, but can I touch you? Please, just once, please,” Thor murmurs against his ear, low and choked, and Loki nods.

The hand that traces over his hip is reverent and slow, until it rests on his thigh; it feels so heavy and it stays there until Loki’s almost ready to move it himself but then Thor _does_ , and even through the thick fabric of his jeans Loki can feel Thor palming his cock, and Loki wants to let him under his pants but he can’t bring himself to tell him and that makes him sure that he’s not ready, but this is good, this is better than good.  Thor begins to move his hand away but Loki clamps a hand on his wrist to hold him there.

“S’ok?” Thor mumbles, and Loki nods.

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, it’s good.”

Thor snuffles against the back of his neck and presses his hips forward and Loki can feel how hard he is but he knows that Thor just wanted him to know that this is good for him, too, it’s not just Loki, and Loki tips his head back, seeking a kiss and Thor gives it to him.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Thor says, “you still want to go to brunch with Tony and Steve and me?”

Loki almost laughs, because at the same time that Thor’s palming his cock and Thor is pressed up against him, they’re talking about weekend plans.

“Yeah, I do.”

“’Kay,” Thor mumbles, and presses a tired kiss to his neck before dropping off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **fjórtán** : fourteen (íslenska)


	17. fimmtán

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter but it pretty much serves as a bridge to the next chapter and blah blah blah so don't go looking for my normal quality here (because there ISN'T sob sob sob).

Tony takes one good look at the hickeys on Loki’s neck and starts howling with laughter – whether it’s at Loki’s expense or not he is not sure about, at first, but then Tony bounds around the table and takes him by the shoulders and plants a kiss on his mouth, shocking all of them (except, perhaps, Steve, who seems to take it very well) and then escorts him to his seat, while Thor looks on, both amused and miffed, and Loki just doesn’t know what to do.

“So what base, huh? Second? Third? Home run? Tell me,” Tony wheedles in his ear, tapping a rhythm on the table, waiting for Loki to answer him.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Stark,” Loki whispers back, and Tony just rolls his eyes and waits, and then Loki whispers, “Second?  I think.”

Tony pumps his fist in the air and drops another kiss on his lips – which Loki wipes off with the back of his hand, only momentarily terrified, but then his brain says, _it’s all right, it’s just Tony, he only wants you to be happy with Thor, he’s only joking_ – and slaps Thor on the back before he takes his seat.

Steve just shakes his head, as though he’s used to this kind of behavior, and sips at his orange juice as Tony settles in smugly and lolls his head to one side and tells Steve, “I _knew_ it.  I knew it!”

“What?”

Tony looks at Thor and Loki, wiggles his eyebrows, looks back at Steve, wiggles his eyebrows again, then smiles lewdly.  “I told you, Steve.”

“You’re imagining things, Tony,” Steve says, shaking his head but smiling, and Tony’s mouth drops open in dramatic shock.

He points across the table at Loki and nearly shouts, “Beard burn, Steve!  Beard burn and hickeys!  Our sweet darlings are moving up!”

“Shut up, Tony,” Thor tells him, brandishing a fork as people around them gawk for a moment before going back to their food, “or I will post the pictures from Halloween our freshman year on Facebook.”

“You _wouldn’t_ ,” Tony gasps.

“I would,” Thor affirms, spearing a roll with his fork, “and I would tag you in all of them.”

“A curse upon your genitals, good sir,” Tony snipes, sniffing and taking a deep drink of his coffee.

“What happened freshman year?” Steve asks, curious.  “Tony and I didn’t meet until the beginning of sophomore year.”

“We got him rip-roaring drunk and he went to all the Halloween parties dressed as Bo Peep,” Thor says, ripping a chunk of bread off and popping it in his mouth.  “Clint was going to get him to go as Little Red Riding Hood but we couldn’t find a cape or whatever.  Pink check dresses were easily found.”

“I hate you,” Tony hisses.

“I need those pictures,” Steve laughs.

“I hate you too,” Tony complains.

“I don’t ever want to see those pictures,” Loki says to Tony.

Tony smiles.  “I will buy you nice things, Loki.  Shiny ones.  Maybe even Starktech things.”

“Only because I don’t want to go blind,” Loki adds thoughtfully, tracing patterns in the ring from his glass of water.

“I take that statement back,” Tony declares.  “I hate all of you.”

“No you don’t,” Steve sing-songs, and presses a kiss to Tony’s cheek.

“… No, I don’t,” Tony admits.  “You’re all bastards, though.”

Thor shrugs.  “We won’t disagree with that.”

* * *

Thor and Tony wander off to a meeting after brunch and that leaves Loki alone with Steve, not that he minds, and they take their time walking back from the restaurant to Tony’s house.  Steve makes them both tea – Earl Grey, something they both like – and they sit on the porch, and the air is just warm enough for them to be fine wearing just coats, squashed together on the swing.

“Tony told me about the meeting with Dr. Fury, and I hope you don’t mind.”

Loki shrugs and settles back against the swing.  “I invited Tony because I trust him.  He’s my friend.  He trusts you, so why do I have to worry about what he tells you?”

Steve shrugs.  “Just because Tony and I are together doesn’t mean he should tell me without your permission.  But all the same, I just – are you okay?”

“I’m nervous,” Loki admits, taking a sip of his tea.  “But I think that, for all the long time that I thought what my father was doing was wrong – not that he has hit me before this, but it was just, like, he would strong-arm me or make sure that I knew that if I disagreed with him, things wouldn’t end well.”

“He was intimidating.”

Loki scoffs.  “Have you seen my father, Steve?  I’m terrified of him.  He changed after my mother died.  I’m just lucky that he doesn’t treat Byleistr that way, at least that I know of.”

Steve nudges him with his shoulder.  “You’ve said before that he loves your brother differently.  That might mean that he sees him – I don’t know – as a way of maybe raising someone from scratch?  You know what I mean?”

“That is strange and disturbing in ways that I don’t want to think about, Steve.”

Steve shrugs and sips his tea.  “Could be, though.”

Loki swivels and tucks his knees up, balancing his mug on his knees.  “Your mom didn’t do that to you, though.”

Loki can see Steve flinch in, but he can’t even be worried about it.  He feels like he needs someone else to know what he feels like, that even though he was a good son his father could never see that or acknowledge that he was doing something worthwhile.  He knows that children always have problems living up to the expectations of their parents, that’s a constant in life – just like death and taxes – but Loki _knows_ that the way that he and his father interact _can’t be normal._

“Sarah and I have our issues,” Steve shrugs.  “When my father died, she was so young and her parents didn’t approve of him or the fact that they were married so young, so she raised me more like a younger brother than a son.  That’s how it was for us.  I mean, I always knew that she was my mother, but she didn’t act that way.  She wasn’t prepared, she wasn’t mature.  So I did whatever I wanted, which is just as bad as being told what to do all the time.”

“I didn’t know all of that,” Loki tells him.  “I knew that she was a little – new-agey, I guess, based on what Tony has said.”

Steve laughs despite himself.  “A _little_ new-agey?  She runs a crystal healing center in Albuquerque.  Whenever I tell her I’m sick she tells me that I need to balance my aura and calm my core.  Sarah is the definition of a new-age.”

Loki can’t stifle his giggle.  “She really tells you that?”

Steve rolls his eyes and smiles.  “Yeah, she does.  Goes on about how I wouldn’t get sick if I center myself and calm my core and that would make me impermeable to illness.  When I visit her she always tells me my aura is dimmed by my stress.  Tony sends her through the roof because not only does he drink a lot, he smokes, and she just abhors that.  It’s almost funny if he wasn’t always trying to feed him wheatgrass and carrot juice.”

“I think I’d like your mother.”

Steve tosses an arm around Loki’s shoulder.  “You’re more than welcome to visit over December break.  Tony always comes with, and Thor came with us last year.  My mom loves people.  It gives her more time to convert them into aura reading and herbs and all that.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing over the break.  I don’t know where I’m going.  I know that I wasn’t invited back at first, and I doubt that I will now,” Loki says and sets his empty mug on the ground.  “I’m probably just going to stay here and work for a while and then see if I can visit my aunt in New Hampshire.”

Steve tightens his arm around Loki’s shoulder for a second, and Loki looks up from where he’s focused on his knees.  “You don’t have to spend all of the break alone.  You’re more than welcome to come with us.  I mean, if you want to see your family, that’s your choice – but you’re our friend.  The invitation is out there.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

* * *

Thor comes home late, heady with working through engineering with Tony and that he _knows_ how things work now, and before Loki can get up to greet him Thor’s straddling his lap, tongue in his mouth and hands tugging at Loki’s hair.

When he pulls away after a moment, his smile is wild and he tastes like red wine, deep and tart, and he says simply, “Hey.”

“Hey back,” Loki answers, tucking some loose strands of hair behind Thor’s ears.  “Have a good time?”

“Yeah.  You should have come with, Loki, the food was really good.  Clint and Bruce were there, too.”

Loki presses a kiss onto the curve of Thor’s jaw.  “I know I could have come, Thor, but I needed to think about some things and do a little more revision.  We only have tomorrow to study before finals.”

“We’re _seniors_ ,” Thor wheedles, “we don’t really have finals.”

“You might not,” Loki answers, pressing a finger to the tip of Thor’s nose, “but I do, and I have to study.  So I took today to think about what I’m doing for the December break.”

“You did?” Thor asks, sliding sideways onto the couch so his legs are thrown over Loki’s lap and his back rests against the arm.

“Steve invited me to New Mexico with him and Tony.  He said that you came with them too, sometimes.  But I want to see my Aunt Hjordis and her family, and I want to spend time with you, too.  I don’t know what to do, really.”

“Why don’t you go see your aunt first, and then I can come out and get you and we can drive back here, and then take a plane out to New Mexico for Christmas?  Or I can pick you up, we can spend some time with my family and then go out to New Mexico?  Unless you’d rather be with your family for Christmas and New Year’s Eve.”

Loki grimaces.  “I’d rather not.  Although I love my aunt, she can be a bit overbearing at times and though I know she will support me – it’s my mother’s sister, not my father’s – I think she would be more of a hindrance than a help.”

Thor nods and reaches forward to tug on a lock of Loki’s hair, getting a smile from him.  “Well, let’s say that after finals, you spend that week and a half with your aunt.  You could spend a week or two with me, which leaves us time to see Tony and Steve and Sarah in New Mexico – not including driving time, I am not flying, I hate to fly – and then time to make it back.”

“You don’t like flying?”

Thor shrugs and snuggles down into the couch.  “It’s not my favorite thing.  Why fly when I can drive and make my own pace?”

“It’ll be like a series of road trips.  I think that’s a good idea, Thor.  I think we’ll have a good time.  Do you want to come with me to New Hampshire?”

“No, I have to go home and help with some building but then I can come and get you, and I don’t know how long it will take.  But it’s worth it, for you,” Thor says with a smile.

_For me_ , Loki thinks, and shifts from his position under Thor’s legs to sprawl in his lap to press another kiss to his jaw, and then his temple, where he just rests for a moment, basking in the scent and the warmth of Thor himself.  _For me_ , he thinks again, and he wouldn’t change anything for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **fimmtán** \- fifteen (íslenska)


	18. sextán

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, yeah.
> 
> This chapter is pretty much an apology chapter for the last one and this is FAR more up to my standards so I hope you enjoy!

New Hampshire is still boring, no matter how lovely it is.  His cousins are younger by a handful of years, but just enough to where they look up to Loki with some kind of awe, wondering how they will, someday, go to college like he does.

The eldest are the twins, Freyr and Freyja, and they have only just turned fifteen and they like to hang off of him – mindless that they are quite heavy – and they’ve both started taking French in school and though he’ll never tell them, they’re quite good for only studying for a year or two.

They’re balls of energy, golden hair and green eyes ready to make their siblings wail about something or other.

Sinmara is next, twelve going on eighty, more prone to be found reading in the trees on the property than roughhousing with her siblings.  She’s quiet and pensive and has her father’s fiery hair and the same spattering of freckles that they all have.  When she is ready to play with the others, though, it’s with the most gusto, the most excitement.  If he had to choose, and he never hopes it comes to this, but Sinmara is his favorite cousin.

Little Nanna is three, or about there (he can never remember) and is nothing but sweetness and laughter.  It’s unnatural – the other three were always prone to pouting and fits but Nanna only sits, and laughs, and takes it all in stride because she doesn’t know any better.

They jump on his bed to wake him up, a pile of warm bodies sent by his aunt because she will not serve breakfast until they are all present at the table (his Uncle Matias excluded, of course, because someone in the family has to work).  Freyja likes to put plaits in his hair as he sits on the floor and reads, and she babbles on about this boy or that girl and the typical complaints of a teenager wading her way through hormones and school, but Loki likes it because it’s all so _normal_ , so _simple_.

The second night that he’s there, his aunt and uncle sit him down and they _talk_ , with the children in the other room watching cartoons and he wonders how on earth they found _out_ , not that it matters because he was going to tell them anyway, but since he made them a contact with the police back at school it makes sense that they would have told them.

They’re not angry that he didn’t say anything, but rather sad and that’s almost something that Loki can’t take from them – Aunt Hjordis has _always_ been there for him, even when he father didn’t want him talking to them.  Loki always thought that it was because they reminded him of his mother, but now – looking back on it – it’s clear that he saw them as another connection, someone that Loki would come to and confide in, which Farbauti could not abide.

After the conversation, Hjordis just brushes a kiss over his forehead and bundles him up in a hug, before sending him up to his room with a mug of sweet, milky tea to drink before bed.  He can’t sleep, tossing and turning well into the night, until Nanna pads into his room – sometimes he thinks she has some kind of sixth sense – and snuggles into his blankets, fingers curled into his hair.  She still smells like a baby and it’s soothing, almost, that he’s still able to comfort her (but then, he thinks, maybe she’s comforting _him_ ) and she sleeps through the night, even if Loki doesn’t.

For the first few days he doesn’t even think of calling Thor, just because Thanksgiving takes up all his energy and then the _conversation_ and he has to spend some time alone – and he’s _tired_ , and he needs to reload his energy.

He manages to text Thor on Sunday, lolling in a hammock in the sun room with a book on the Québécois nation motion.

**To: THOR  
 _sent 11:43 AM_  
How is your vacation so far?**

**From: THOR  
 _sent 11:50 AM  
_ so far so good, been building with baldur in his room making bookshelves**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 11:51 AM_  
That’s nice.  I’ve been spending a lot of time with my cousisns.**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 11:51 AM  
_ *cousins**

**From: THOR  
 _sent 11:54 AM  
_ are you gonna be busy tonight**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 11:54 AM  
_ No.**

**From: THOR  
 _sent 11:56 AM  
_ good pencil me in at like 11 your time gtg ilu i will talk to you then**

For some reason just the prospect of talking to Thor, even if he can’t see him, cheers him up immensely and when the twin terrors come to bother him about going out to the yard and playing in the snow he agrees, surprising all of them.  They have a wonderful time and he makes them all cheese toasties and cups of [vispipuuro](http://cookingfinland.blogspot.com/2011/01/whipped-porridge-vispipuuro.html) from Thanksgiving, and his good mood seems infectious, even driving the twins to tell Nanna a sweet story before Hjordis comes to take her up for a nap.

When Matias asks him what has him in such a good mood he doesn’t even know how to answer because it’s not something that he can put into words.

 _My boyfriend is going to call me.  I get to talk to my boyfriend.  Thor’s going to call me tonight_.  They all seem puerile and vapid and there’s no point to explaining it, so he just shrugs and says, “I get to talk to some of the friends I left in Chicago.”

“That’s good,” Matias tells him, nodding.  “Six weeks is a long time to go without seeing them.  It’s good that you all can find time to chat over break.”

Loki longs to correct him that it’s not just _any_ person that he’s going to be talking to, but he doesn’t feel like telling all of this to his uncle.

He goes to his room early and snuggles into his nest of blankets, laptop resting on his thighs as he leans against the headboard and goes on random pages of Wikipedia, going from page to page aimlessly, watching the minutes tick past.

His phone pings with a text message.

**From: THOR  
 _sent 10:52 PM_  
can i call you now or are you busy**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 10:53 PM  
_ Of course you can call me.**

His phone rings moments later and he is smiling so hard he thinks his face might crack in two or something.

“Hey,” Thor says.

“Hi,” Loki mumbles.

They’re both quiet for a little and Loki can hear Thor moving around, getting comfortable as Loki knows he does, sighing as he relaxes.

“I miss you so much,” Loki blurts and then _hates_ how it sounds, desperate and needy and clinging and he wishes that he could take it back or something, but it’s out there.

Thor laughs lowly but it’s not mocking, and then says, “I’m glad you said it first.  I miss you too.”

“It’s strange, not having you here.  I’ve been with you for so long that it doesn’t seem _right_ for you to not be here.”  Loki takes a deep breath.  “My things don’t _smell_ like you.”

He hears Thor take a stuttering breath on the other end and he just pushes on, over Thor’s breathing.

“I miss your snoring and how you hum when you’re laying with me, and when your hands splay over me – your hands are so _big_ , so much bigger than mine, you’re bigger than me everywhere now that I think about it – and when you fall asleep and you breathe against my neck, I miss that.  I miss how you – how you kiss me like you mean it, like you never want to let me go and how you _taste_ , and how you tug at your hair when you think and how you wait for me, you’re _always_ waiting for me – and _fuck_ if I know how to go from here, Thor, I just miss you.”

A desperate whine squeaks through his lips and he almost knocks his laptop to the floor trying to curl into his blankets before he rescues it and sets it safely on the ground.

“Fuck, Loki, _fuck_ ,” Thor splutters, and the rough tumble of his voice makes Loki realize that Thor still wants him just as badly as he did a week ago, a month ago and Loki wants that too, just as badly and it’s embarrassing how hard that thought _alone_ makes him.

“I want you,” Loki tells him and Thor’s answering “Fuck, Loki,” makes him kick off his blankets because he’s warm, so warm, and he can just barely resist the urge to shove his hand down his sweatpants and jerk himself off to the sound of Thor breathing.

“I want you so badly,” he finishes, and it sounds pathetic but he doesn’t even care, because it’s true no matter how you look at things.  He has been analyzing this for _days_ and he’s just so in love with Thor that it’s silly, patently ridiculous but Thor loves him the same way so that’s _fine_ , and nothing matters more than Thor right now – Thor and winning this stupid case against his stupid father, but he banishes that thought to the back of his mind to focus on the sound of Thor moaning in his ear.

His cousins run shouting down the hallway and Loki starts, thinking they will come to bother him but they quiet down quickly, one last great hurrah before his aunt herds the twins to bed.  He reaches over and turns on the fan at the edge of his bed, to drown out his voice to listeners outside (not that people in this house would do such a thing, but just in case).

“How bad, Loki?”

“What?”

“Tell me how bad,” Thor tells him in that _voice_ again and Loki realizes, as he takes a breath and his hand snakes down his stomach that Thor wants to – wants to hear him talk about _sex_ over the phone, and oh _god_ Loki has only dreamed about this –

“Loki,” Thor grumbles, and it goes straight to his libido and he has never wanted something so badly in his life as he wants Thor to be in his bed, in his life, in _him_ , and it babbles out of him in a torrent of words.

“Oh _fuck_ , Thor, I want you so bad I ache, like last weekend but _more_ because you’re not here and I can’t touch you if I want to touch you, and you can’t touch me.  I wanna learn you and let you learn me, and I _came_ last night thinking about it but you weren’t there,” Loki babbles, listening to the pitch and waver of Thor’s voice.  “I think about how warm you are and how you heat up the bed, and how you would feel holding me down – because I think I’d like it if you did it, but only you – and sometimes I think that you could hold me down anywhere you wanted and I wouldn’t mind, because it’s _you_.”

“Yeah?” Thor grunts, and Loki can hear him shift the phone, maybe from one side to the other.  “You want me to fuck you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki whines, and my _god_ he may be embarrassed with himself in the morning but now, this is good, this is better than good and Loki is not ashamed to finally arch his hips and push his sweatpants down to the middle of his thighs, cellphone pinned between his hand and his ear, and wrap a hand around his cock.

“I bet you do, Loki, I bet you’re _gagging_ for it, right?” Thor asks, but doesn’t give him time to answer before he continues, voice hissing into his ear.  “I can hear you, you know, touching yourself right now, and that’s how we would start, you’d get yourself off to get nice and relaxed, and then, d’you know what I’d do then?”

“What?” Loki gasps, and it doesn’t matter that his hand’s dry because that’s how he likes it, and he leaks enough to make things just that easy, just right.

“I’d get you nice and open on my fingers – because I’m the first, I know that, and you’re gonna be tight – until you’re sopping wet and begging for it, until you can take three of my fingers, because that’s what it’s going to take to get my cock in you – and then and only then, I’ll fuck you, make you scream with how _good_ it’ll be,” Thor snarls, and Loki wishes that he had enough dexterity or _something_ to be able to manage to let go of his phone, continue pulling on his cock, and work a finger inside himself but he is just not that good at multitasking, so he sticks with what he knows.

“How?” Loki asks, and he tries to finish his question – _how would Thor fuck him?_ – but Thor knows what he’s asking before he can gasp the rest out.

“How would I fuck you, Loki?  On your elbows and knees, maybe, but not the first time – fuck no, the first time –” and here Thor moans, and Loki can _hear_ Thor masturbating on the other end and it does nothing but make him harder and hotter and more desperate for him – “the first time, we’ll be face-to-face so I can see everything, so you can see everything.  One our sides, too, you like to sleep like that, I could wake you up that way, would you like that?”

“Yes,” Loki says, and his hips are already twitching upward of their own volition, and he’s _so_ goddamn close, and it’s better than anything has ever been, any thoughts he’s ever had about anyone else wiped away by thoughts of Thor, Thor, _Thor –_

And he’s coming, teeth locked together and whine spilling into the phone, and Thor’s panting and moaning, just saying his name over and over, and Loki thinks that he’s coming too, and nothing has been this right, _nothing_.  All that matters is Thor’s voice in his ear, his mind focused on Loki, and thoughts of the two of them together like a shining bridge over space and time, perfect and beautiful and it makes Loki want to cry with how overwhelmed he is.

“I love you,” Thor pants, “I love you so much, you’re gorgeous, you’re amazing.”

All Loki can manage is a spent murmur and it takes a few minutes for him to gather his wits and clean himself up with a handful of tissues (a shower will have to wait until the morning) before he can talk again.

“That was good,” Loki tells him, as though all of his vocabulary has flown out the window.

“I’m glad.  I didn’t know if you’d – if you’d like it,” Thor admits.  “But you did.”

“Yeah, I did.”

They’re quiet again, as Loki shuffles back down into his blankets, arousal gone and the air cool.  “When are you going to drive up?”

Loki can hear Thor shrug, a shift of fabric.  “I’m going to leave Thursday morning, so I should be there Sunday sometime if I drive for at least 10 hours a day.”

“You don’t have to drive yourself to exhaustion, Thor.”

“It won’t.  Trust me.  I’ve done this before.  Opposite directions, though.”

“All right,” Loki says, with a sleepy snuffle.  “I’m excited to see you.”

“I’m excited to see _you_ ,” Thor responds, “but you’re tired, aren’t you?  Go to sleep.  I’ll call you tomorrow or the next day.”

“Are you sure?” Loki asks, but he yawns at the end of the question and he realizes that he’s more tired than he has been in _days_ , finally relaxed, finally talking to Thor.

“Positive.  I love you.  Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.  I love you.”  He waits until he hears the click from the other line before he drags up himself, and he reaches out to turn the lamp off and snuggles down into his pillow, asleep in moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **sextán** \- sixteen (íslenska)


	19. interlude: thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my dear friends! I am so sorry that I was gone for so long, but we lost power and then of course no internet and then strange things blah blah blah excuses per my normal routine.
> 
> I am also sad to say that this will be the last chapter for about another week, because I'm going on vacation with my mom and leaving on Sunday morning and when we do have internet I am sure that I will be uploading pictures as compared to writing D: (we are going to Mt. Rushmore!!)
> 
> I am going to be on sporadically on [tumblr](http://l0ptr.tumblr.com) and also on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lambscreams) throughout the week, but if you really need to contact me you can send me an email at _hannibalisms @ gmail . com_ (with spaces removed, of course).
> 
> I hope you guys have a wonderful week and enjoy this chapter!

As companions go, Baldur is patently useless.  He's a teenager, and Thor has no use for them at the moment.  He's sullen and strange, and he talks about things that Thor really can't be bothered to listen to.  When Baldur tells Thor that he's going to make himself some bookcases and hang some shelves, Thor knows Baldur is only telling him because he wants Thor to help him make them - or just make them, in reality.

While Thor measures and cuts and sands, Baldur watches and helps occasionally but doesn't really do much other than watch Thor.  It's eerie, but Baldur has always been the quietest of the three brothers.  Where Meili and Thor were boisterous and loud, prone to fights and bickering, Baldur would just quietly plot his revenge and exact it when the time was right.

Baldur is the quiet confidante, the one that - even though he's younger than Thor - always knows what to say to make you feel better, even if he doesn't understand the problem or even feel bad for you.  If he needs to tell you that you're being stupid, he does it so nicely that you can't bother to be mad at him for it.

When they were younger, Thor and Meili decided that their parents loved Baldur more and shut him out of their brotherhood until their mother brought it to their attention that they both loved them all equally, that no child was loved the most and that they would never be made to fight for attention.

Thor wonders sometimes if Baldur resents them for it but if he does, he has never let it show to his brothers.

Thor wishes that he could be more like Baldur sometimes.

It's difficult for Thor to not get angry about the little things.  It's taken years of talking to doctors and his parents and the friends that he cares about the most to get through the hard parts.  The way he explains it is like there's this sleeping monster in his chest, that with the quietest sounds, the softest touch awakens and makes even the small things hard to _not_ get angry over.  It's always there, simmering, waiting, and it's taken so much for Thor to learn to keep that beast quiet and slumbering, letting it awaken only when he needs it or it's all right to be angry.

That's not to say that Thor doesn't get angry.  He does, a lot of the time, about things that wouldn't set off most of the population but set him off.  It's curious, almost as though he sees it from outside his body; he knows that he's getting angry but it's nearly impossible to stop it.

Frigga said once that it was like watching a glass fall off the table - you know you could have caught it if you tried, but it just doesn't happen and then it smashes on the floor and you don't know what to do from there, whether you should try to put the pieces back together or just sweep it up and throw it away.

Dr. Selvig tells him that being angry is a normal human emotion, and that it shouldn't rule him: he's allowed to get angry and upset and yell, but if that takes over his life like it did before _then_ it's not good.  "Anger is not the only emotion that you should feel in your life, Thor," Dr. Selvig told him once at a session, "there's more to life than emotions revolving around anger.  Love, for example."

Love, Thor thinks as he bolts a shelf to the wall.

Love makes him think of spring and flowers and the way when Loki laughs he tilts his head back and his eyes squeeze shut, how he has tiny brown freckles smattered all over his arms and shoulders and he hates them, but Thor wants to map and count them all.  It makes Thor think of the thick, ropey scars that trace over Loki's skin that he loves to follow with his fingers and Loki doesn't talk about them, hardly ever, but sometimes Loki will tell Thor what drove him to hurt himself.

Thor wishes that he could talk to Loki about what is wrong with him but he doesn't know what to say or start out with, because it's difficult to admit that you have some severe shortcomings to the person that you think you might want to spend your life with.  It seems that Loki just _knows_ that Thor gets angry, and though he doesn't know the specifics it's as though Loki is his heat-sink; when things get rough Loki's there, with his hands and smiles and the warmth of his arms when he just hugs Thor and doesn't let go, waits until the red has faded from the edges of his vision and things are back to normal.

Dr. Selvig tells him that it might be the right time for Thor to talk to Loki about things, about his anger problem, but every time that he wants to start talking he doesn't know how to begin and Loki sits there, waiting and patient, and Thor just leans over and kisses him and he never gets to his point anyway.

Not that sharing kisses with Loki doesn't make him happy; they make him very happy indeed, it's just that it seems to interrupt the moment when Thor thinks he might be able to talk to Loki about important things and then kissing becomes the _important thing_ and he doesn't remember until they're cocooned in bed.

Thor may have a short attention span when it comes to Loki.  It's probably something that happens when people like each other as much as they do.

His phone chirps, reminding him to check on Tony to make sure that he and Steve are all right in New Mexico.  Baldur picks it up and tells him what he already knew, but then pauses with a strange look on his face.  "Why do you have a picture of you kissing your roommate as your background?"

Thor shrugs, because he's holding a wrench in his mouth.  Baldur nods and says, "Oh, I get it.  He was nice.  I liked him.  Why didn't he come with you?"

"He has his own family to visit," Thor tells him as he puts the wrench to its proper use.  "That's why I'm going up there."

Baldur nods again and sidles closer to his brother.  He watches Thor as he settles the shelves on the wall and makes sure that they're level.  "Are you gonna marry him?"

Thor splutters but Baldur's grinning, and Thor knows it's just his way of being strange and sweet and letting Thor know he doesn't care what he does.  "Someday, maybe.  If he'll have me."


	20. sautján

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, my friends, but here's the new chapter! next one will be delayed a little bit as I work tomorrow and wedding Friday, work Sunday and sometime in there I have to do my FAFSA and student loans ... groan!
> 
> thank you so much for being patient, i love you guys!!

The first text comes on the Wednesday the week that Thor is supposed to be arriving in New Hampshire.

**From: THOR  
 _sent 1:23 PM  
_ packing sucks I swear to god if I cant get all this shit in my suitcase I am just going to smash it with a baseball bat**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 1:24 PM  
_ Take a deep breath.  Did you fold them or just throw them in your suitcase?**

**From: THOR  
 _sent 1:30 PM_  
I folded them and they fit now youre a genius**

Loki snorts and rolls over in his hammock, tucking an elbow under his head to text one handed.  He smiles when Thor texts him back once more, just a simple “love you”, and goes back to his book about the history of the Russian Orthodox church.

The next one comes Thursday as he and his aunt are making apple pies and he’s wrist deep in apple peels and cinnamon; he has to wait for a little while to see what it says, until their 4 pies are ready to be put in the oven.

**From: THOR  
 _sent 11:11 AM  
_ it’s 1111 make a wish**

**To: THOR  
 _sent 11:35 AM  
_ I’m late, but I made my wish.**

**From: THOR  
 _sent 11:40 AM  
_ it’s the thought that counts**

It makes him laugh and he tells his aunt when she asks, and she looks at him thoughtfully and says, “Well, it’s good that there are two in a day, so you can try again tonight.”

The pies are delicious – they always are, no matter what kind of pie they happen to be – and they taste even better when Loki remembers that Thor is coming up to get him, Thor is going to be there on _Sunday_ , and that’s so soon to him, so soon, but it’s good to think about.

He doesn’t get another text until late Friday night.

**From: THOR  
 _sent 11:38 PM  
_ cleveland is boring and there is nothing on the TV. just wanted to tell you that. goodnight.**

Loki smiles and curls back into his blankets, watching reruns of _World’s Worst Tenants_ (and he always feels guilty about it, the people losing the places that they lived in and Tony turned him on to the show, so since then it’s his guilty pleasure along with _Repo Games_ and all those other trashy repo TV shows, so sue him) until the sun peeks over the horizon and he finally falls asleep.

Freyja brings him up a mug of coffee and a reminder far too soon after he falls asleep – “You promised that you would take me to the mall today to get a dress for Christmas!” – and before he’s really conscious he’s starting the 2 hour drive to North Conway to the outlet mall so that Freyja can have her perfect Christmas dress.

It takes her forever to pick out a [red roll-sleeve dress](http://www.gap.com/browse/product.do?cid=82420&vid=1&pid=140442&scid=140442032) that he saw a million other places and by then he’s so tired, but she needles him into [picking](http://www.ae.com/web/browse/product.jsp?productId=0128_3253_008&catId=cat40003&bundleCatId=cat5130004) [out](http://www.ae.com/web/browse/product.jsp?productId=1164_6733_151&catId=cat90012&bundleCatId=cat5260029) [something](http://www.ae.com/web/browse/product.jsp?productId=1149_9557_012&catId=cat4860026) [nice](http://www.ae.com/web/browse/product.jsp?productId=2101_9376_410&catId=cat380145) and then pushes him out of the way when he goes to pay for it and tells him that her mother told her to get something for Loki, too.

Loki doesn’t complain.  He buys lunch instead, and lets Freyja tell him all about her latest boyfriend and how she likes him but doesn’t _like him_ like him (and Loki wonders how that’s even _possible_ , you either like him or you don’t) and when Freyja asks his opinion about that, he tells her that much and she nods.

“I know,” she says, “but I just like _having_ someone, and it’s not like either of us think that it’s serious.  We know it’s not.”

“As long as you know,” Loki responds, and pats her on the hand, “that’s what’s important.  As long as neither of you are leading each other on, you know?”

“Yeah,” Freyja answers, and twirls her pasta around on her plate.  “Awkward segue, but do you really think that we don’t know that this guy that is coming to visit is your main squeeze?”

“Freyja!”

She snorts into her Coke, and Loki can feel his face heating up.  He thought he was a _little_ more secretive about it, but apparently not.  “Come on, cousin, don’t be so embarrassed.  You’ve never brought anyone home!”

“I’m not – I’m not ‘bringing him home’, Freyja, he’s just _visiting_ and then we’re leaving the next _day_ for New Mexico!”

Freyja nods with complete exaggeration, eyebrows hiked high on her face.  “Uh-huh, go on.”

Loki scowls.  “You’re a little _shit_ , do you know that?”

“I know,” she tells him with a smile.  “But that’s why people like me.  Anyway, my question is this: do you know?”

Loki ponders the question, and his cousin, fifteen going on ageless and he didn’t know that she could be as perceptive as she is, didn’t know that she could see things other than hot guys in bands and cute clothes and who made the latest fashion faux-pas.

“I know that he’s been the best thing to happen to me since – well, since a very long time.  And, he cares about me, and I care about him – which is very important in a relationship – and we don’t want to leave the other person pretty much ever, when it comes down to it.  So I know, yeah.  I know what I want.  I just have to hope that it’s the same thing that he wants to have with me.”

Freyja nods and steals ravioli off his plate.  “I hope that you can be happy.  I hope that you don’t get hurt.  Anymore, I mean.  Mom and Dad think that we’re too young to know what’s going on but Freyr and I know and it makes us angry to think that they were hiding it from us.  I don’t blame _you_ for hiding it from us, but – at the same time, why didn’t you tell us?”

Loki shrugs and watches her watch him for a moment before he can come up with the words to explain.  “I didn’t want to warp your perspective on anything.  I don’t want to push you into thinking something about someone that you don’t need to be thinking about.  Do you understand what I mean when I say that?  It’s not that I wanted to protect you – you can do that well enough on your own, I know that – but I don’t want you to be … forced into thinking that about someone, I guess.”

Freyja just stares at him.  “Loki, no matter what, we’ll always be on your side and your side only.  We’re _family_.  That’s what we were made to do for each other.”

* * *

Sunday dawns bright and sunny for the beginning of December – the 2nd, to be exact – and the twins and Sinmara help him make [æbleskiver](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%86bleskiver) with apple butter and powdered sugar, putting them in a bag for Uncle Matias to take to work with him, because a doctor doesn’t often get weekends off from the hospital.

They’re delicious and easy to make and between all of them they devour a batch and a half, and though Loki knows that they’re not good for them it doesn’t really phase him, because he doesn’t eat much to begin with.

He and Freyr shovel the sidewalk after the morning’s snowfall – a few more inches, nothing that they’re not used to around here, but it’s heavy, wet snow – and it ends in a snowball fight with the other children coming from inside and ganging up on him until they’re in a dog pile, screaming and laughing and having a good time.

They spread out around the house to take hot showers and then regroup in the living room to watch old, 1950s movies and drink hot chocolate.

Loki’s sleepy and warm when his aunt pats him on his shoulder and whispers in his ear, so as to not wake the others, “A car just pulled into the driveway.”

Loki shimmies out from underneath his cousins, trying not to wake them and sprints to the front door, mindless of the cold as he flings it open, and –

And there’s Thor, climbing out of his car and he’s beautiful in the sun and the snow, looks at home in it, and he rubs his eyes for a moment before looking to the front door where Loki’s standing.

His smile is wide and blinding, and he starts forward towards the door but Loki is leaping across the snow (like a _gazelle_ , a glorious gazelle, he tells himself) and launches himself into Thor’s arms.  Thor’s lucky that he’s strong and as prepared as he can be – or is it Loki that’s lucky? – and Thor scoops him up and holds him close, laughing and grinning and pressing kisses to Loki’s face.

They spin slowly and Loki wraps his legs around Thor’s waist and it looks ridiculous, he knows it, two grown men in the snow giggling like children and speechless, but that’s not what matters at the moment: what matters is the fact that Thor’s there, and warm, and his, and that he’s just as happy to see Loki as Loki is to see him.

“Loki,” Thor rumbles, “ _Loki_.”

“Hi,” Loki answers, breathless, head tucked in the space between Thor’s jaw and shoulder and it’s uncomfortable because they’re the same height and he’s crammed into a tiny area, really, but it’s all worth it, it’s all worth Thor being here and close and _real_ , not just a tinny voice over the phone or words on the screen.  Thor’s _real_ and warm and here, and Loki’s not going to let go any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **sautján** \- seventeen (íslenska)


	21. átján

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a short chapter, but i hope that it makes up for it in content rather than word count!
> 
> apologies for my absence again, but you _know_ : real life, college, FAFSA, student loans, blah blah blah and all that but I hope to get to the MEAT of the ending third (which IS coming up, sadly) in the next couple of updates.
> 
> thanks so much for all your lovely comments (i swear I will answer them all eventually, i am just so bad at them as of late) and, as always, catch me on [tumblr to keep track of what's up](http://l0ptr.tumblr.com)!!

They stay overnight in Centralia before moving on to Oklahoma City – the last place before they truck it to Albuquerque – and Loki remembers how nice it is to be out in the middle of nowhere again.  He loves New Hampshire because he gets that feeling, but being surrounded by towering pines kind of removes the ability to stargaze properly so he does love the flat plains of the Midwest.

He stretches out on the bed on his stomach in his singlet and boxers while Thor showers, flipping through the room service menu while listening to the weather and local news.  It’s curious, really; if someone had told him six months ago that this is what he would be doing over Christmas he wouldn’t have believed them simply because of how much he prefers his own company.  He certainly never imagined that he would have someone as loving as Thor as a companion, at any rate.

He likes the bed – the only bed, because Thor made a scoffing noise when Loki asked in the car which bed he would want, and Thor said “What makes you think I got a room with two beds?” and Loki blushed, pleased – because the sheets are silky but not _too_ slippery, as sheets with a high thread count are wont to be, and because there’s a comforter and a down blanket under it, _and_ a third blanket on the chair should they need it.

He tosses the menu on the desk and pulls his book out – _A Feast for Crows_ , he loves George R. R. Martin, but the books are taking him forever to get through and he reads them twice before moving on to the next book – and he’s engrossed in it so much he doesn’t realize that Thor’s out of the shower until he feels the bed sink down and Thor’s on his knees between his legs, hand wrapping around Loki’s chin and pulling him up and backwards for a kiss.  He’s still wet, hair dripping onto the bed and Loki’s shoulder as they kiss but Loki can’t be bothered to tell Thor, because he _likes_ Thor this way.

He likes it even more when Thor pulls his fingers through his hair, loosening it from the messy bun he has it in.  Thor tugs his head back almost too far, stretching his muscles out to their limit but Loki has always been stretchy and able to bend to a point that would have broken other people.  They’ve been playing this game since they left New Hampshire: Thor just putting him where he wants him and this is as far as they’ve gotten, but it makes Loki’s head swim and dots pass in front of his eyes with how hot it makes him.

Thor is stretched out on top of him, caging him in with the arm that’s holding him up as he sucks marks into Loki’s neck and Loki lets his fingers grip the coverlet so tightly he thinks he might rip it as Thor’s weight finally ( _finally_ ) settles down onto his hips to pin him to the mattress.

There’s these _noises,_ breathy, whining noises and Loki can’t pin them down until he realizes that they’re coming from _him_ and Thor’s encouraging them, murmuring filthy endearments against his throat until he can’t take it and sinks his teeth into the meat of Loki’s throat, just where his shoulder begins.

Loki tries to flip himself over, just so that they can be face-to-face (that’s Loki’s favorite position by far, even though they haven’t gone that far together yet) but Thor just rumbles “No,” against his neck and pulls his hair a little tighter.

Thor’s rutting against his hips and the towel he has slung around his neck slides off with a wet plop onto the bed and Loki can only spare a thought that it will leave an awkward wet spot around their feet but he doesn’t care enough to stop.  Being with Thor is like being stuck in a storm or something, unable to get away but at the same time not wanting to get away from whatever it is that makes Thor so _glorious_.

Thor lets go of his hair and that moment of laxity gives Loki enough time to roll over and Thor just grins down at him, hair still wet and his grin crooked.  Loki doesn’t know what to say to him as Thor looks him up and down for a moment before rolling off him and the bed and pulling Loki into the bathroom.

“What – what are you doing?” Loki stutters as Thor pulls his singlet off and then crouches to tug his boxers down and Loki would almost be embarrassed if Thor hadn’t seen him naked several times already, seen the scars that rope across his arms and legs and stomach.  Thor smiles up at him and presses a sloppy kiss to his hip, the dip of his clavicle, the shell of his ear.

“Might as well get clean while we get dirty,” he whispers and Loki laughs despite himself, as Thor shuffles his pants back off and pushes Loki into the shower.

Thor likes the water scalding and Loki gasps with the heat of it, but Thor is always so warm that it’s something that Loki has gotten used to over the time that they’ve been together.  It’s more shocking when Thor twirls them so that Loki faces the back of the shower and the water hits him gently as Thor presses him close to the wall, his face against the tile and Loki hates admitting that this is what he loves, this is what he _wants_ is for Thor to pin him and _own_ him.

Loki knows that Thor won’t shame him for it – this is something that they’ve agreed upon, that they both like their roles that they’ve fallen into and as long as they talk about it, as long as they can agree on what is good and what isn’t and how to stop there’s nothing _to_ be ashamed about – but it still makes his face heat up as Thor presses full-bodied against him.

“’S good?” Thor mumbles against his neck, cock sliding against the crease of thigh and ass, and Loki nods his head in answer because words have escaped him.

Thor doesn’t touch him, he never does, not unless Loki asks because that’s a term that they’ve agreed on: Thor can’t touch him skin-to-skin because it makes Loki nervous and shaky but Thor’s more than welcome to work him off through his clothes.  Loki likes Thor touching him how he is now, though; one arm running up and down his thigh, his right arm curled around Loki’s chest.  It doesn’t bother him if Thor uses him to come, even though he thought that it would – but the first night out of New Hampshire when Thor pinned him to the door and made them both come from the motion of Thor’s hips alone and the things Thor was _telling_ him banished that hesitancy from his mind.

He likes it when Thor manhandles him into position and all of a sudden Thor’s pinning his thighs together, and Loki gasps and closes his eyes because Thor’s _fucking_ him, but not, using him and it’s _good_.  Thor lets go of his legs – and Loki knows better than to move from where he’s been put – and braces himself on the wall, hands slipping until they find purchase and he grunts with the effort of fucking Loki.

Loki can’t do anything but moan against the tiles and snake a hand down to wrap around his cock as Thor grunts his name, a litany, a prayer.  Loki thinks for a split second that his thighs are going to be _raw_ tomorrow but that doesn’t matter almost as soon as the thought enters his head, because this is _so_ worth the ache.  Thor buries his face in the mess of wet hair on the back of Loki’s head before pressing his face into Loki’ shoulder, finally gasping out his climax – “Loki, fuck, Loki, _Loki_ ,” – and the feeling of Thor’s muscles tensing and releasing is enough to send him over the edge, crying out and rising to his tiptoes as Thor holds him.

As they both come down, they just stand there in the water, breathing together and Thor counts their breaths out loud, in and out, up to thirty and then down again before he turns around and begins to wash them both, taking care of Loki in a way that he wasn’t sure he needed but Thor likes to take care of him all the same.

He’s lethargic and so heavy in his bones as Thor wraps him in a towel and rubs him dry, and he just wants to sleep forever but Thor forces him into pajamas and into bed, and he stays awake long enough to watch Thor get dressed and flick all the lights off and climb in behind him.  Thor is always the big spoon, not that Loki minds at all – having it the other way would just be strange.

“Love you,” Loki mumbles, almost to his pillow, but Thor hears it all the same, and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **átján** \- eighteen (íslenska)


	22. nítján

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick note - I've change my tumblr URL for some personal reasons, so please [go here to follow me if you'd like](http://hydromeli.tumblr.com)!
> 
> also, grad school is starting up again and I am going to try to stick to my schedule to about a chapter or so a week until midterms, so hopefully things will be back to normal asap!!

Albuquerque dawns bright and hot on the horizon, as Thor’s car trundles along the road and turns off the highway before they reach the city proper.  Thor has already explained that Sarah prefers to live a distance away from the city because it throws off her center and Loki gets that.  Because she is so in tune with herself and the world around her – if he has understood both Thor and Steve properly – it would make sense that she prefers to live away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The dust flies from the side of the wheels and Loki opens the window for a moment to feel the heat and the wind, because even though he prefers the feel of autumn summer is still glorious and wonderful.

Thor makes another turn and they pass under an archway with a sign dangling from it that reads “CRYSTAL SPRINGS RANCH” in curly letters.  There’s a house and some outbuildings on the horizon – maybe a barn or two, he can’t tell.  Thor pulls up to the house and honks once before turning the engine off and climbing out, Loki clambering to follow.  He takes a moment to look around.

Everything is well taken care of, and seems to be laid out in a circle around the house itself; there are so _many_ buildings that he just doesn’t know where to start looking.  There’s a barn, of course, and Loki can see horses inside.  There are some people out away from the house, but just then the screen door on the porch bangs open and Tony comes pouring out, stumbling over the bottom step but makes it to throw his arms around Loki and press a sloppy kiss to his cheek, whispering, “Thank god you’re here and she can focus her crazy on someone else, come _on_ , I love Sarah but _no,_ ” and then Tony lopes away to hug Thor.

Steve’s hug is far less intense and he slings an arm around Loki’s shoulder.  “Welcome to New Mexico. Hot, isn’t it?  This is the cold season for us, too – you should be here in the summer when it hits 100 every day.”

“I don’t mind it,” Loki tells him. “It’s a nice change from all the snow that we got in New Hampshire.”

Thor and Tony are hefting the suitcases – “Christ on a bicycle, Loki, what do you have in here, rocks?” “Books,” Loki answers – and they enter the house, and Loki isn’t sure what to expect.  He thinks that it’ll be whimsical and strange, and there are hints of what Sarah does in the foyer where they enter, but it just looks like a normal house, with pictures of a little Steve everywhere in the room.

“Sarah’s in the kitchen making bread,” Steve tells them, and leads Loki in, arm still wrapped around his shoulder.  “I’m pretty sure it’s for dinner tonight but I could be wrong.”

The kitchen is bright yellow with orange accents – _sun colors_ , his mind tells him, _are for good luck_ – and Steve’s mother is just as bright and sunny as the room, looking over her shoulder as she kneads a loaf of bread, flour poofing up from the counter.

“You must be Loki,” she says, plopping the dough into a bowl and covering it with a damp cloth before sticking it atop the fridge.  She rinses off her hands in the sink and takes his face in her hands, stroking the tips of her fingers over his forehead.  Loki almost pulls away, but Steve told him ahead of time that this is one of his mother’s peculiarities so he just lets it happen.

She smiles, almost sadly, and stretches up to give him a hug.  “It’ll be over soon, darling, I can promise you that.  Don’t worry.  They say you can’t pick your family, but it seems as though you’ve done a good job choosing yours.”

Loki blushes hot as Sarah pulls back for a moment and presses a kiss to his forehead.  “Steven, take those rowdy boys out and have them help clean the barn.  Loki, darling, would you mind staying here with me and helping me with the bread?”

“Oh, uh – no.  I don’t mind at all,” Loki says.  Steve squeezes his shoulder and smiles, before calling out to Tony and Thor to meet him at the barn.

He and Sarah fall into a rhythm as she explains to him how to make the bread – he works with the wet ingredients and she with the dry, until they have four loaves rising on top of the fridge and the first is ready to be put into the oven.

Loki can’t even name the amount of time that he and Sarah work on baking and making dinner – beef stew, hearty and rich and delicious – but the sun begins to dip behind the horizon and the boys have come back in from working outside to take turns getting clean.

Thor comes down first, wet hair slicked back into a ponytail and wordlessly he helps Loki set the table, until Loki finishes and brushes his hands off on his jeans and Thor reaches out and rubs his thumb below Loki’s cheekbone.

“You had a bit of flour,” Thor tells him, smiling.  He tugs Loki close for a moment, tucking Loki’s head under his chin (and it should feel a little demeaning, since they’re of the same height, but it doesn’t) until Tony comes banging down the stairs, demanding to know what’s for dinner and when it’s going to be ready.

* * *

Sarah has given Thor and Loki the little cottage facing away from the rising sun – “Because I can see that it’ll make you peaky in the morning, it’s better if your windows face the west, I know that much” – and it’s a lovely little cottage, with a kitchenette and a tiny living room and a perfect bedroom that Loki throws himself down on the moment they get in and lock the door.

He squirms around until he’s on his back, watching Thor putter for a moment, putting Loki’s suitcases in their proper places (the red one in the living room, because that’s where the books are, and the black one in the bedroom, because that’s where his clothes are).

Thor comes in, finally, and tosses his t-shirt on the floor before shimmying out of his sweats and laying down next to him, tracing a finger over the curve of Loki’s jaw.

“What do you think of Sarah?”

“She’s lovely,” Loki tells him, pressing his face into the curve of Thor’s palm.  “She doesn’t care one tic about who I am or – or what I’ve done.  She just _likes_ people. S’nice.”

Thor makes a noise in the back of his throat and Loki looks at him through his eyelashes and Thor just – just _looks_ at him, with his mouth open slightly.

“I like that she _knew_ without me saying anything what my issues were – and I know that Steve didn’t tell her, because I asked him when you and Tony and Sarah were playing Scrabble – and I think that she really is in tune with the earth, or whatever,” Loki continues, but he knows that Thor’s not really paying attention to his words but more his _mouth._   “I think I’d like to have a crystal session with her, as cracked as that sounds.  She offered while we were making bread.”

“Uh-huh,” Thor says, and Loki knows that he’s _really_ not listening any more.

“Maybe later in the week, you know, once we’ve settled in and things.  Steve said that we could go riding tomorrow, I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

Thor gets hung up on _riding_ , and Loki likes watching his eyes dart back and forth between Loki’s lips and his eyes, and the way his fingers that aren’t touching Loki’s face twitch against Thor’s abdomen.

“Yeah,” Thor murmurs.

“He’s going to introduce me to Joseph, the groom, and he’s going to show me the ropes.  That way it’s not just me getting on a horse and hanging on for dear life.”

“Mmm,” Thor says, and strokes his thumb over Loki’s bottom lip.

Loki has him in the _palm of his hand_.  This is amazing.  But, at the same time, Loki knows that Thor holds just as much sway over him.  Loki kisses the pad of his thumb, tongue darting out to lick at it, when Thor lets out a deep, rumbling groan.

“I wanna,” Thor gets out, before he trails off, and Loki can think of ways to end that sentence: _touch you, taste you, fuck you_.

“What?” Loki whispers.

Thor looks at him again, that look that Thor gets when he’s going to push Loki’s boundaries, and it _burns_ in Loki’s chest to know what Thor is thinking.

“I want to finger fuck you,” Thor finishes, finally, and Loki’s breath stutters in his throat momentarily.  The thought stills Loki for a moment, and his mind races.  That crosses all the careful boundaries that they have set – Loki can touch Thor anywhere, if he has permission, and Thor can touch Loki except for the area between his hips and the top of his thighs.  That falls under the category of “Things That Loki Does Not Allow, Ever” but at the same time – the same time … it makes his heart pound and the blood rush from his head to his feet and back again, and he can feel heat flooding his face.

“Oh,” Loki says, and the word sounds round and sweet in his mouth, and then before he can really process it, he follows it with, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Thor repeats, and Loki knows that’s not the answer he was expecting but it’s the answer that Loki knows he _wants_ to give Thor more than anything.  He wants Thor, wants him in more ways than he can articulate.  It’s not something that has really crossed his mind before; it’s always been a hazy picture, how he and Thor would move from intercrural to penetrative, and it wasn’t really like this but it’s _good_.

“Okay,” Loki asserts.

Thor doesn’t speak for a moment, but then he grins so wide that he thinks his face might crack.  “You’re not just saying that to make me happy, are you?”

“No,” Loki answers, pressing a finger to his cheek.  “You know I don’t do that.”

“Good,” Thor rumbles, and rolls off the bed to rummage in his bag for a moment before pulling out a bottle of lube, and Loki makes a raw noise – Thor is _prepared_ , like he _knew_ that Loki would want to do this and it makes fire spark along his spine and rub against the bed like a cat.

Thor has turned his back to him, putting things that he’s tossed out of his bag back in.  “Do you remember your words?”

Loki almost scoffs.  They’ve gone over this so _many_ times – every time that Thor touches him it seems like, every time that they start being intimate – but Loki knows that it reassures Thor and makes him relax, that Loki is comfortable with telling him to stop.

“Green means that I’m fine, don’t stop.  Yellow means wait, just a second, but don’t _stop_ stop.  Red means stop completely,” Loki tells him, sitting up and curling his arms around his knees.  “You ask me, I answer.  But I can say red or yellow any time.”

“Right,” Thor says, and when he turns his cock is pressing against the seam in his boxer-briefs and it makes Loki’s mouth water and dry out at the same time how hard Thor is, even if he’s not _really_ going to fuck Loki tonight.

“Oh,” Loki says again, and struggles out of his clothes until he’s sprawled out naked on the bed, while Thor stands near the edge and watches him writhe and rub like he’s in heat.  Loki hasn’t felt like this before, hasn’t ever felt this _wanted_ or _sexy_ or anything like that.  It’s always just been, well, he _supposes_ that he’s attractive but it’s never really hit him like it does right now, as Thor watches him touch himself.

He rolls onto his stomach and just – just _presents_ himself to Thor, watching over his shoulder as Thor reaches over and flicks the light off and opens the shades, dappling Loki with moonlight.  “Fuck,” Thor murmurs and he just rubs a hand down Loki’s back, from shoulders to hips, over and over again until Loki’s boneless and smiling, slumped down on the bed and feet dangling off the edge.

“Roll a little, baby,” Thor tells him, and Loki rolls to face away from Thor, pressing his back against Thor’s knees and thighs to feel the heat of him.

“Color?”

“C’est vert,” Loki tells him, eyes slit and barely seeing, but Thor smiles own at him.

“That’s good, very good.”

Thor settles down behind him, resting a hand on his hip and just stroking the skin there, thumb rubbing over a scar every now and then before after what seems like forever he finally leans down and presses a kiss to Loki’s mouth, and Loki returns it lazily, lax in his pleasure.

“I’m going to start, all right?  Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Loki nods and closes his eyes, because the sensations are almost too much, too much stimuli for his frazzled nerves that tell him to be scared and to pull away but tell him yes, _yes_ , this is good and perfect and the only thing that he will ever, ever need.

Thor stops, just for a second, as though he knows Loki needs a moment, before beginning to trace his fingers lower and back, until they’re resting at the join of thigh and ass and Thor has never been as gentle with him as he’s being right now, and Loki could just _kiss_ him.

“Pull your right leg up a little, under your knee,” Thor instructs, and Loki loops a hand under the bend of knee and pulls.  How is this even _sexy_ , Loki thinks, but he hears Thor take a deep breath behind him and the minute shifting of Thor’s hips tell him that Thor _does_ think that he’s lovely and beautiful.  Loki cranes his head back and Thor kisses him, just a chaste press of lips to lips and Loki’s almost disappointed, until a warm fingertip presses against his entrance, not moving, just there, just _touching him_.

The hand that isn’t holding his leg up scrabbles against the comforter, and he doesn’t know if it’s from fear or anticipation or what, but Thor doesn’t do anything other than stay right where he is, kneeling behind him, warm and solid and _there_.

Thor waits, just waits, until Loki whispers “green” into the air and Thor pulls away for a second and there’s a _snick_ of the cap and then the finger is back, wet and slick and Loki can’t help but groan and press back, just a little, and Thor whispers, “Relax.”

Loki follows instruction, at least as well as he can, deep breathing and timed, in, out, in, out, until he’s so full of oxygen that he’s almost dizzy and then, just then, Thor presses the finger in and _oh_ , this is what he was missing.  It’s not spectacular or mind blowing at this moment, no, but he feels more open than he has in _months_ , more in tune with who he is that just the thought of more happening makes his mouth drop open and a whine squeak free.

“Color,” Thor grunts, and it’s almost like he can feel the vibrations of his voice all the way down through his chest and into the finger that’s crooked inside of him and it takes his breath away and he can’t answer, won’t, until Thor grunts it again.

“Green,” Loki gasps out, head tilting back and Thor’s hand slides under it, cradling him like that to touch and support.  He makes a pleased noise in his chest, like a cat purring, and Thor answers in kind.

He can’t even focus on more than one thing at a time – Thor’s breath, his knees pressing into his back, the hand under his head, the finger inside of him, until _somehow_ one becomes two and it doesn’t hurt, not really, just an ache that feels like when you’ve been hunched over at a desk for too long, and just standing up will take it away.

“Yeah,” Thor mumbles, and Loki doesn’t know if Thor knows he’s talking like he hums at night.

He doesn’t move, until Loki wiggles backwards a little, just a little, and Thor huffs out a laugh before moving to lay behind him, hand and arm not moving, really, until they’re spooned together.

It doesn’t even seem like _fucking_ , more like Thor’s making love to him with his fingers, slowly, curling and shifting, until Loki’s panting into the crook of his arm, trying to get Thor to touch him more, more just a little more –

And then _there_ , oh, it’s like warm honey or fire shooting up and down, spreading, and he gasps out, “What is –” and Thor chuckles, rough, and answers, “That’s your sweet spot, baby, it’s good, yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Loki whines, and shoves his hips back, and how is this him, how is this normal, how do people do this on a regular basis and feel okay and _want it_ , because it makes him feel like liquid, like he’s shameless and begging for it and that’s not how it normally is.  How do people want to have sex and touch people like this on a regular basis, how do they want to be connected to someone like this?

But the answer is that’s _why_ , this is why people have sex, to be so connected to their partner that all his breath is punched out of his lungs when the thought comes to him that he could be like this with Thor _forever_ , connected to him and together and he gets it in a sudden rush, that this is why people are in _relationships_ and he _has_ this.

“Oh, fuck, Thor,” he cries and Thor moans behind him, pressing both fingers forward; it has to hurt Thor’s wrist, to be bent that way, but Thor just smiles into the back of Loki’s neck and now – finally, Loki thinks, _finally_ , though he didn’t know that it was this urgent, that he was this needy – Thor begins to fuck him, slowly at first, then faster.  Loki can feel the muscles in his arm flexing as Loki writhes and twists, trying to get _more, more_ , because he’s fucking _greedy_ for it.

Thor grunts, the line of his cock hard against the back of Loki’s thigh, and rumble into his ear, “You like my fingers in you, baby?  You’re _gorgeous_ , Loki, you’re so good,” and the praise is enough to make Loki arch his back, enough that he feels as though it’s going to break, and wails out his climax.

Thor stills behind him, not wanting to hurt him but at the same time Loki pants out, “Keep going, please, Thor,” and Thor does, shifting his fingers again and begins frotting into Loki and within a few moments Thor comes too, warmth spreading out behind him.  Thor breathes into his neck, wet and warm and Loki could lay like this forever, leg hiked up and Thor’s fingers in him – except, maybe, when the lube begins to dry and so does the sweat, and Loki begins to feel distinctly _dirty_.

In a good way, he decides.  He likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **nítján** \- nineteen (íslenska)


	23. interlude: quietness

This is how things proceed for the next few weeks at the ranch: Thor and Loki wake and join the others for breakfast, something wonderful that Sarah always makes from scratch.  Sometimes it’s eggs made to order from the chickens behind the house, other times it’s buttermilk pancakes with bacon from one of the pigs.

Then they go about daily chores for the ranch, something that Loki thought he would hate, but it makes him feel useful when Joseph smiles at him and slaps him on the back for setting up the tack properly, or when Gregorio comes to feed the chickens and finds Loki already kneeling amongst them, palms full of feed and the chickens happily pecking away.

They normally do something interesting – horseback riding to the canyons or Steve will take them sightseeing (to which Tony complains, loudly, that he has _seen_ all of this, let’s go to a casino, but he always enjoys himself anyway) – before they make it back to the ranch for dinner.  Sometimes they just laze about the house, Loki helping Sarah in the kitchen when she’s not with her clients while the others play videogames in the basement, which Steve long ago turned into a comfortable lounge.

Then they have dinner, and Sarah tells them about her clients – though never by name, that would be a breach of her contract, but just the interesting bits – and they laugh and joke and Loki has never felt more _loved_ since when his mother passed away.

Then the boys might play some more games – they’ve been playing a lot of Left 4 Dead lately – while Loki reads until Thor is finally ready to go to bed.  He could go by himself, and he thinks to a few times, but he likes being in the thick of things and being surrounded by his friends.  It’s a nice feeling, having people around you that are just content to know that you are there.  It makes him smile, when he watches Tony shoving Steve when Steve lets the die, or when Thor accidentally shoots Tony and he can laugh along with them.

And when they get back to their cottage – it’s _theirs_ , now, since Sarah made them a little painted wooden sign and tacked it to the door and told them they were always welcome – Thor has him almost immediately pinned to the door or the wall or gets him on the bed and touches him until he’s begging for it, panting against whatever surface, and Thor laughs and finally touches him like he wants.

This time they’re in the shower, Loki’s back against the wall and Thor’s pinned him with his knees, panting into his neck as he twists his fingers inside of him and Loki’s got one hand wrapped around Thor’s neck and the other tugging on a handful of Thor’s hair.  He’s not even in control of what he’s saying anymore – “Thor, please, please, fuck, Thor!” – and he doesn’t know what he’s asking for, because he has _everything_ that he wants right now, Thor and friends and love and someone that touches him.

Then there’s a hand on his cock and it takes him a second to figure out that it’s not his – they’re still wrapped around Thor – and he almost pants out _yellow_ , because this was not something that he agreed to, this is not something that he told Thor was all right, but it’s good and it doesn’t hurt, and Thor just rumbles, “Yeah, baby,” when his hips twitch forward and back like they have a mind of their own.

 _Well_ , Loki thinks, _two can play this game_ , and untangles the hand that’s tugging on Thor’s hair – and it takes a moment, because Thor twists his head and nips along his wrist as he pulls away and Loki thinks to just leave it there so Thor can suck marks into his skin – and skates it down Thor’s flank, feeling the quick flexes of muscle, until he finds Thor’s cock and begins to jerk him off to the same pace that Thor’s using.

Thor makes this deep, guttural sound in his throat that Loki’s never heard before and it shoot straight to his cock, mostly because of the sound itself, but also because it’s _because_ of him that Thor is making that noise, that he shifts his hips forward and lets Loki touch him.

Loki likes this more than he thought he would, having to choose between shifting his hips forward into Thor’s hand or down onto his fingers but Thor makes that choice for him when he lets go of Loki’s cock, slaps Loki’s hand away from his and press full-bodied against him and wraps a hand around both of them, and Loki will never admit to the noise that comes out of him when that happens.

It’s over almost embarrassingly quick after that.

They don’t speak until they’re dry and dressed and snuggled in bed, Loki’s face pressed into the swell of Thor’s chest, breathing in his scent.

He’s never believed when people say that they love how their partner smells, but now he knows that they mean because he does love how Thor smells.  Even after a day of work, when he’s rank with sweat and dirt, Loki could press into him to breathe him in for ages.  He just loves how Thor smells of male and power and ozone, and it’s so wonderful that he wouldn’t give it up for anything, really.

Thor hums something, off-key and quiet, before he presses a kiss to Loki’s temple and smiles, hugging him close and slipping a knee between Loki’s legs.

If he could have this, this exact moment, for the rest of his life, he would love it.  It’s simple and sweet and wonderful, and there’s nothing like _knowing_ that someone loves you, that they care, that they want to be with you as much as you want to be with them.

Loki sighs and tightens the arm that he has wrapped around Thor, a one-armed hug, and Thor returns it before it loosens and Thor begins to snore, gently, and Loki smiles against his chest.  It doesn’t take long until Loki joins him.


	24. tuttugu

The break ends far too soon, and then they’re back in Illinois and Loki doesn’t quite know to make of the world, as it is.  It’s quiet and white and sparkling, a foot or so of snow on the ground.  It makes walking to class – uphill, of course – difficult, but it’s nice, at the same time, to puff out breath and have it be the one spot of warmth in his little world.

He and Tasha catch up – she went to see her family – and he makes sure to stop by Tony’s place to see Bruce and Clint, who regale him with tales of what went on in the labs when they were gone (Bruce _may have_ caused a small fire in the senior chem lab).

He and Pepper terrorize the freshmen in the French 102 class, who don’t seem to understand that he and Pepper are _trying_ to make their lives easier rather than make them cry.  If Loki has to go over verb conjugations _one more time_ he is just going to cry.

And then it comes – a call from Detective Lopez, to come down to the police department to have a meeting about the upcoming bench trial.  It’s been simmering in the back of his mind, this trial, because it will be the first time that he’s seen his father since the _incident_ but he has been properly disowned, which wasn’t a surprise at all.

He still has all the money from his mother’s will – more than he needs, more than he knows what to do with – but the final loss of _family_ , his _father_ , is still shocking.  He and Thor spend the night at Tony’s place, in Tony’s giant bed with him and Steve, watching musicals and eating junk food until they pass out.

Tony’s lawyers are ruthless and inscrutable, and they dig up more about his father that Loki is really comfortable knowing.  But he knows, deep down, that if this goes his way – and it looks like it will, it really does – that this could be the way to saving his brother from the same fate, put him in the arms of Aunt Hjordis and keeping him safe.

When he gets to the police department the lawyers are already there, and they tell him how things are going to go – his case is going to be heard on Tuesday morning – and it’s almost too much, until Detective Lopez puts a hand on his shoulder and with the same crooked smile that she always has, she tells him, “You’ll be fine, _mijo_.  It’ll go fine.”

He smiles back, a little teary, but he takes her words to heart.  It can only go poorly if he lets it go poorly, he can only let his father get to him if he allows it, if he gets intimidated.

He doesn’t know what worries him more: seeing his father or the fear that he’ll lose the case.  If he does, well – that’s the last that he’ll see of Byleistr until he reaches 18, and who knows what will happen.

Thor tries to keep him stable, keep him steady, and for the most part it works, except for the moments when Loki realizes that he has to go in front of a _judge_ and talk about what’s been happening, and then he works himself into a panic, until Thor pins him to the couch and makes him breathe deep.

He goes to class and does his work, and sits with Tasha at lunch and aside from Thor and Tony and Steve, he thinks that without her he would have crumbled to dust a long, long time ago.  With her smirks and biting sarcasm – and he intelligence – Tasha knows better than anyone, he thinks, how to put him back together.  Not including Thor, of course.

Tasha comes over Monday evening and spends her time with him running her fingers through his hair, his head on her lap, watching old movies on TMC.  Thor comes home late and though Loki wants to talk to him, tell him that he’ll be fine, he just can’t put anything to words and crawls into bed with him.  Tasha sleeps in Loki’s bed.

Tuesday comes and Loki isn’t at all ready, he _isn’t_ , but Tasha’s dressed and ready to go – a smart suit – and Thor’s standing at the door, waiting to walk them down because he can’t go with to the courthouse because he has a presentation this morning.  Loki knows that it’s tearing him apart that he can’t go, but Loki has told him that it’s not worth his grade for – to which Thor always says, “You’re worth it, Loki.” – but Loki doesn’t want it to be like that.

His suit is little too big, but it’s not bad – he hasn’t worn it for a long time – but he still looks smart in it, or so Tasha tells him.  Thor agrees and straightens his tie and Loki smiles a little, because that’s nice to know, but at the same time – he would have liked to wear this suit for something else.

Tasha pats him on the shoulder and they all walk down to Tasha’s car – Tasha’s going to give Thor a ride to campus before they go – and it’s silent.  They don’t speak.

When they stop in front of the engineering building, Thor gets out from the back and opens the front passenger door and gives Loki the messiest, sloppiest kiss that he has to date, hands curling into Loki’s hair before he pulls away.  His lips are red and he quirks a smile as he tells Loki, “I love you.  You’ll win.  I know it.”

He shuts the door.

Tasha drives away.

* * *

Hugo – the lead lawyer – smiles and tells him that everything will be fine, “ _Alles wird gut,_ ” he says, and then continues in English.  “We have a solid case, a good case, and you won’t have to worry any more.  Good?”

“Yes,” Loki says, pulling his jacket down a little and nodding.  “I know.  Everything will work out.”

“ _Gut_ ,” Hugo says, and stacks all of the papers he needs in a neat pile and then puts them in a folder and stands.  “Are you ready to go?  They’ll come in for us in a moment.”

Loki laughs but it’s strangled.  “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Tasha grips his shoulder, something grounding, and then the bailiff pokes his head in and tells them that they can enter.

The court room isn’t at all what he’s expecting, based on those court shows.  It’s just another room, with tables and chairs and the judge’s chair in front.

From the other side his father is entering, head held high and his lawyers – though Loki recognizes them, he doesn’t know their names – flank him before they sit down.

Hugo sits first and then Loki, followed by Tasha and Mark, the other lawyer.  The judge enters once they’re all seated – Judge Corner, the bailiff says – and then it’s silent, and Loki swears that his heart is going to leap right out of his chest, right on to the table.

He glances over and his father connects eyes with him – for just a moment, a split second – and Loki thinks that he can see regret there, maybe sadness, but then he nods once and turns away.

Judge Corner leans forward and steeples his hands.

Loki hopes that it all goes well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tuttugu** \- twenty (íslenska)


	25. tuttugu og einn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such the long wait! Real life happened, and I had too many irons in the fire but I think that it'll be better now!
> 
> This IS NOT THE END - I predict that there will be three of four more chapters after this and then I can devote my time to TVOTU, which I don't think will be as long as this, but something like that.
> 
> I hope you guys forgive me for taking so long - I'm also going to be going back to answer comments (I HAVE ALMOST 50 TO GO THROUGH, I'M SO SORRY) so you'll be getting those replies soon.
> 
> I love you all so much for waiting, and as always, feel free to [drop me a line on my tumblr](http://hydromeli.tumblr.com) with anything!
> 
> I'm also taking any blame for legal inconsistencies hereof, because all this research was done on my own and I don't know that much about trusts or otherwise, and I am just going with my limited knowledge of the court (thanks, Law & Order!!) so um, it's probably ALL WRONG.

Loki makes it through the first day of court well – he doesn’t really have any emotions about the whole thing, he thinks, because he’s gotten so well at shutting himself down when he really needs to, when it becomes a matter of self-preservation that he not acknowledge what is going on around him.  It’s easy when his lawyer makes his opening statement, and it’s easy when his father’s lawyer makes his.

It’s all subterfuge and hidden meaning, all about what isn’t being said just as much as what is.  Natasha grips his hand loosely under the table, and every so often she squeezes it and he squeezes back, and he thinks that it helps.  It helps him focus and remain calm, watching the lawyers as they talk as though this isn’t going to make or break him.

The trial is scheduled to take place in two sessions, rather than one, because of the nature of the case.  Where they normally only take a few hours, because this involves both Loki and, possibly, his brother, the Judge has allowed two sessions.

Their side starts by presenting his case, even though his father has declined to testimony, as is his right – and he was told to expect that, Hugo said that it was the most likely possibility – and Hugo starts by calling Natasha as a witness, and bless her, because she’s calm and collected and doesn’t flinch when Hugo brings out the posters with the pictures of his bruises and bloody face on them.

Loki does.

Mark grips his shoulder and he takes a few deep breaths and takes the chance to glance sideways, just for a moment, and his father has paled, even though Loki knows that the defense was given the pictures beforehand, because that’s how things go.  He knows that his father was aware of what he had done, but maybe they didn’t look so awful on that page; huge and technicolor, they are almost blinding in their intensity.

Natasha answers Hugo’s questions, and when the prosecution steps up to question her it doesn’t faze her; she still answers solidly and truthfully, and when the lawyer says that he’s done with her, she smiles a little at Loki and steps down gracefully from the chair.

Detective Lopez is next – Hugo told Loki that he would be last, because it’s easiest to let him be last, get acclimated to the environment – and she answers everything as though Loki’s life depends on it, and when the other lawyer calls her out on her affection for Loki – “Could it, perhaps, cloud your judgment on the case?” – her response makes him warm everywhere.

“Why?  Because I found myself wanting to help a person that had been beat down his entire life?  Because I took the time to make sure that he was doing all right and that he wasn’t doing anything to harm himself? Because I take my job seriously?  ‘To serve and protect’; that’s what I do.  That what I did for Mr. Laufeyjarsson.  That’s what I would have done for any person and any case that was placed on my desk and had the same issues that this case did.”

His father’s lawyer doesn’t know what to say to that, and finishes with a question about how many abuse cases she’s handled – to which she answers “More than I care to remember,” and when he presses for a number, she says, “In all the years I’ve been a police officer? Over a hundred, over two hundred, probably.” – and even then, he’s speechless.

Loki tells himself to remember to send her the biggest and most ridiculous box of cookies that he can buy.  She deserves it.

The judge allows a recess then – fifteen minutes – and a few into it, while Natasha coaxes Loki into drinking what feels like a gallon of water – a clerk rushes in and pulls Hugo and Mark outside of the waiting room, and when they come back, Hugo’s pale and Mark’s smiling, something Loki hasn’t seen him do in a long while.

“We’ve got a development,” Hugo says, and claps him on the shoulder so hard that he almost spills water all over the waiting room floor.

“What?” Loki asks, shaking the water from his fingertips.

“We’re not calling you to the stand.  We’re not calling anyone to the stand.  The prosecution has called asked that we allow your father to enter his plea right now, in the middle of the trial.  This is – this is – _Das ist noch nie dagewesen!_ ”

“What he _means_ ,” Mark interjects, “is that this very rarely happens in bench trials, much less in trials by jury.  If there’s a plea at the beginning, most of the time the defendant keeps that plea.  But it can happen, as long as the prosecution is willing to accept that plea and the judge has agreed to hear the new plea and set down a sentence then and there, if it’s a plea of guilty.”

Loki splutters around the rim of the cup and Natasha takes it out of his hand and she’s gripping his other hand so tightly he swears he hears his bones breaking, and he squeaks out, “What?”

Hugo grips him by the shoulders and shakes him a few times, laughing, and says, “We’re pretty much guaranteed that he’s going to plead guilty!”

Loki wants to laugh, wants to do something, but all he can is drop his head to Natasha’s shoulder and take deep breaths, because it feels as though his world is narrowing to a pinpoint, to the fact that he has to breathe or he’s going to pass out.  It narrows to Natasha’s hand in his, the feel of her hair under his cheek, the sound of Hugo and Mark shuffling papers, and then his world widens again – the floor, and the table, and then the other people in the room, and he doesn’t think the world is going to end anymore.

“Are you ready, Loki?” Natasha asks, voice soft. “Are you okay?”

“I think so, but I don’t know if I’m ready.  I don’t know.  How – how is this my _life_?” he whispers, and Natasha sighs into his hair.

“I don’t know, my friend.  But it is, and you’re stronger than you think.  This can only be good, Loki, you have to tell yourself that.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, “okay.”

With that, he stands and brushes off his suit – not that there’s anything on it at all – and looks to Hugo and Mark at the door, and tells them, “I’m ready to go back in.”

Mark nods and they follow Hugo, single file, back into the courtroom where Judge Corner sits, talking quietly to the bailiff.

His father looks at him straight on, the first time in a long time, and Loki thinks that he looks sad, maybe, or regretful.

He’s not sure which he hates more.  He hates him.  He’s never felt that solidly about someone before: he doesn’t hate lightly, but in this moment he knows that it’s true.  He hates the man that he has to call father, the man that he trusted to take care of him after his mother died that didn’t, because he didn’t care enough about him to protect him from _himself._

When they’re seated, Judge Corner looks at the defense over his glasses and steeples his hands.  “I am told that you wish to enter a new plea, Mr. Ymirsson.  I normally wouldn’t allow it, but the prosecution has agreed to hear it and accept the verdict that I lay down.  Know that if you choose to contest the plea that you have entered, you have thirty days to do so – but as you are changing the plea you have already entered, I would think _wisely_ about the decision that you are going to make at this moment.  That being said, if your counsel would like to enter a plea here, they will _not_ be allowed to present their case.  If you choose to not enter a plea, you may proceed with the case.  What is your answer?”

The lawyer that’s done all the talking stands and says, “Mr. Ymirsson would like to enter a plea, your honor.”

“Proceed, Mr. Ymirsson.  What do you plead to the first count of domestic battery?”

His father stands, and he looks at Loki once more.  Loki stares back, and he doesn’t know how he finds the strength or the boldness, but his father nods, a tiny bob of the head, that Loki used to associate with his father being proud of him, a long time ago.

“I plead guilty, your honor.”

“What do you plead to the second count of domestic battery in the presence of a child?”

“I plead guilty, your honor.”

“What do you plead to the third count, withholding of a fixed trust due to Loki Laufeyjarsson upon his reaching the age of 21?”

“I plead guilty, your honor.”

Loki clutches the edge of the table and sways for a moment – a guilty plea on _all charges_ is something that he never would have expected.  That’s – well, that’s two Class A misdemeanors and a Class C misdemeanor – which means up to two years in jail and then some fines, and maybe – just maybe – his brother will get sent to his aunt for care.

Judge Corner shuffles some papers on his desk.  “Let it be known that the defendant has pled guilty to all charges.  Mr. Ymirsson, you have committed a crime against a relation – someone that depended on you – both in seclusion and in front of a minor.  For the first two charges, both a Class A misdemeanor, you are sentenced to two consecutive terms of 365 days each, in addition to a total of $5,000 in fines.  For the third charge, a Class C misdemeanor, you are sentenced to an additional 30 day term, as well as a $1,500 fine.  Should you prove to have model behavior through your first two terms, you may, upon the beginning of your third term, apply for a reduction in time under the County Jail Good Behavior Allowance Act.  Do you have any questions at this time?”

“No, your honor.”

“In addition to these sentences, because of the domestic assault committed in the presence of a minor, the unnamed minor will be, under Chapter 750, section 5, part 6, 5/602, removed from the home of the defendant and put under the temporary legal custody of an adult relation, unnamed for the safety of the minor child, and upon review after the time served, may be returned to the defendant based upon both his performance of time served as well as the continued best interest of the child.  Do you have any questions regarding this verdict?”

His father doesn’t look pleased, but he answers, “No, your honor.”

Loki could fly.  Byleistr will be _safe_ , safe with his aunt in New Hampshire, somewhere that he will thrive and belong and be loved, safe from the wrath of his father and Loki will be able to _see_ him, something that he feared would never happen.

But the judge continues.  “Because of the severity and duration of the abuse, the court will also issue an Order of Protection to Loki Laufeyjarsson against Farbauti Ymirsson, of which the terms will be later decided upon.  Do you have any questions regarding this verdict?”

“No, your honor.”

“Then let it be known that the verdict has been handed down, and you will start your serving of your terms as soon as you are able, to be decided on the following day.  The court is adjourned until 9 AM tomorrow.”  Judge Corner bangs his gavel and sweeps out of the courtroom with a backwards look, and Loki doesn’t know what just happened.

He cannot process it, he simply cannot, until the bailiff barks out, “All rise!” and then two county jailers come forward and cuff his father – and then he’s gone, and Hugo’s patting his shoulder.

“ _Meine Junge_ , I think we need to go for some drinks!”

“Hugo, it’s not even past one o’clock!”

“Then we’ll go for lunch _and_ drinks, Mark, if you’re going to be tight about it.”

Loki staggers to his feet and Hugo throws an arm around his shoulders as Natasha takes his hand, and they file out of the courtroom, and Loki still doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tuttugu og einn** \- twenty one (íslenska)


	26. tuttugu og tvö

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT the last chapter. There are 3-4 left, depending on how long I make them. I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> ALSO HERE ARE SOME GLOURIOUS FANARTS I HAVE GOTTEN  
> clicking the individual links will take you to the tumblrs of the artists, where you should leave them love!! [gaynordicbros](http://gaynordicbros.tumblr.com/post/33545203629), [owlkeeperlady](http://magdadrawing.tumblr.com/post/31925994293/wip-based-on-one-of-the-scenes-of-hydromelis-fic), [owlkeeperlady](http://magdadrawing.tumblr.com/post/31926040896/wip-another-scene-of-hydromelis-fic-shifting-my), [muchacha11](http://muchacha11.tumblr.com/post/25352681411/more-loki-n-thor-this-time-inspired-by-a), [ateverbti](http://ateverbti.tumblr.com/post/30240723453/coloured-version-of-fanart-for-hydromeli-from-her), and [ateverbti](http://ateverbti.tumblr.com/post/30342922813/thor-and-loki-from-hydromelis-fanfiction)
> 
> sobs grossly you guys are so awesome, I love you

Hugo and Mark end up taking them out to lunch but Mark glares at Hugo enough that they don't get drinks - at least, until Mark goes to the bathroom and Hugo hurriedly orders three [B-52s](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B-52_\(cocktail\)) and they throw them back.

Mark comes back and eyes the empty glasses with a shrug and a short glare, but Hugo just preens under the scrutiny.

Loki has to come back to court tomorrow for the sentencing, though he isn't required, Mark tells him.  He feels the need, though, because he needs the closure and he needs to make sure that his father will get what he deserves.  It sounds angry and wrong but he needs it, like he needs food and air and water.

When Natasha drives him home from the restaurant, they don't speak, mostly because Loki can't think of anything more to say than what he has already told her before.  It's not an uncomfortable silence, though, but companionable and nice.

She pulls up outside his building and they sit for a second, until Natasha rolls her shoulders and smiles at him.  "I'm proud of you, Loki.  You're the strongest person I know.  Do you want me to come with you again tomorrow?"

"No," he says, fiddling with the seat belt, "you don't need to.  I mean, Hugo and Mark are going to be there, and it's not like I have to do anything - it's just sentencing."

"I know I don't  _need_  to be there, but do you  _want_  me there?"

Loki smiles and hugs her over the center console.  "I'll be fine, Tasha.  I don't want you to miss more classes, all right?  I'll be with Mark and Hugo - they'll help me, if I need it.  Okay?"

She sighs and brushes a kiss over his temple as he pulls away and unbuckles himself.  "Promise me that you'll call me when you get home and let me know how it went, then, yes?"

"I will," Loki answers as he gets out of the car, and waves as she drives away.

He's not even all the way in the door before Thor has him by the shoulders and is pulling him into a tight hug, so hard that his back cracks; Thor's huffing into his shoulder and Loki can't tell what he's doing.

Thor just holds him in the doorway, face pressed into his shoulder until he shuffles them in to the apartment, not letting go for a long time.  He lets go and raises his hands to bracket Loki's face, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I am fucking - I am beyond words, Loki.  I'm so happy for you."

"I couldn't have done it without you, Thor.  I really couldn't have.  If it wasn't for you - I don't know where I'd be right now," Loki says, tearing up just a little at the thought of life without Thor.

"Aah, stop it, don't cry, Loki - this is something good," Thor tells him, wiping away the tears that managed to fall.

"I know, Thor, I know," he says, and this time he kisses Thor, soft and slow.

"I got something to celebrate," Thor says against his lips, "but you've got to get out of that monkey suit to get it."

"All right," Loki says, and lets go of Thor to change.  

"Take a shower while you're at it, you smell like courtroom."

Loki laughs as he goes into the bathroom, because for all of Thor's romanticism he still has a bluntness that Loki adores.  He hangs his suit up on the back of the bathroom door, since he'll just have to change into it again tomorrow.  

He showers - using Thor's soaps, because he wants to be enveloped in his smell after a day like this.  He stands there under the spray, warm and happy, until the water starts to go cold.  He slips into sweatpants and snags one of Thor's shirts - with CENTRAL VALLEY FOOTBALL emblazoned on it and worn so thin from age that it's almost transparent - freshly laundered but still smelling of Thor.  He towels his hair dry and ties it back, because some days he just can't stand having it hang in his face.

When he comes out of the bedroom, Thor's puttering around the kitchen and Loki stretches out on the couch, waiting.

Thor comes in with a tray, and on it is a cheesecake - Loki's favorite from the bakery down the way - and a bottle of Patron Silver and two shot glasses.

"Liquor and cheesecake, a perfect way to celebrate wins," Thor says.

He sits down and gives Loki a fork - "Fuck cutting it, baby, we're just going to eat it like this," - and between the two of them they eat half of it and have had just enough tequila to be warm and giggling, watching campy cop shows on TruTV.

Thor gets more and more effusive with his affection the more they drink, until he stretches out on the couch, his head on Loki's chest and his fingers tracing paths up the seam of his sweatpants.

He shifts so that he's laying on his side, facing Loki now, and he smiles up at him.  Loki strokes Thor's hair away from his face and smiles back, muzzy and warm and happy.

He can't help but get half-hard, his body lazy and lethargic with drink and tiredness, and Thor notices, as he always does.  Thor raises himself up on his elbow and presses slow kisses against his stomach, up his chest until he's mouthing Loki's nipple through the shirt - not that it's much of a shirt to begin with.

He does it until Loki's undulating slowly under him, wordless noises asking for more, for Thor to give to him what he can't name or won't name, he's not sure which.  When Thor has him moaning, he finally pulls away and tugs Loki up with him, into the bedroom.

They moved the beds together weeks ago, with ties that you normally use on truck beds but it works, as long as they keep the bed in a corner where the mattresses can't shift too much.  Thor brings him in for a kiss and pulls the shirt off, then bends his head down and mouths at his nipple again, one and then the other, until they're peaked and red, and Loki writhes against his mouth.

"Please," he says, and Thor pulls away to smile at him and nod his head at the bed.

"Elbows and knees."

Loki obeys after he strips, and it feels right to be here after such a long day, the sun finally set beyond the window and the world coming alive in the night - even though he still gets flutters in his stomach when he thinks about Thor touching him.

It's so much better now, though, that he knows what Thor like and Thor knows what he likes, and they mesh together like pieces of a puzzle.

He presses his face down into the pillow where it's cool against his cheek, turning his face sideways to watch as Thor strips, muscles bulging and and stretching as he moves.  He will never stop loving how powerful Thor is, the constrained energy within him that Loki will never have.  Thor is active and powerful where Loki is more passive and thoughtful; but it works, it works so well, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

Thor settles down behind him and slots himself along the curve of Loki's body, pressing a kiss to each knob of his spine that shows through his skin, tongue licking away the salt of his skin.  He sinks his teeth in the dimples just above his ass, enough that Loki jumps a little but doesn't move from where Thor's pressed him down into the bed.

"What's your color, baby?"

"Green," Loki says, eyes mostly closed, green slits in the near-dark where the streetlight shines in through window, making the room shaded in sodium orange and yellow.

"Good," Thor says, large, warm hands resting on his hips, "just checking.  You know I like to make sure."

"I know.  I trust you," Loki says, and Thor presses a quick kiss to his tailbone before giving each cheek of his ass a sharp slap.

"I'm glad that you do, Loki.  I love you."

Loki smiles and lets his eyes slide shut, because he finds even though he trusts Thor implicitly it's easier sometimes to keep them shut and just feel, float on the feelings and sensations.  He can sink down into sub space and let Thor guide him and lead him and he loves it, loves that Thor can pin him and get him to wail for it.

He wants, oh, how he wants but sometimes he doesn't know how to put it into words what it  _is_  that he desires - but Thor knows, Thor can tell.  When Loki needs something, Thor does it; when Thor needs something, Loki can do it.  It's a kind of symbiosis that he loves, that he has never had with anyone else.  Sometimes it's terrifying that Thor knows him so well but then, then, he thinks of how lost he would be without Thor - alone and adrift and he may not even be here.  And he knows that Thor would be angry all the time, full of that potent rage that he can channel into things that he loves to do.

When he comes up from his thoughts, he's writhing on three of Thor's thick fingers, panting and noisy - and Thor's cock is a brand on the back of his thigh and just like that, like an explosion, he knows,  _he knows:_  he wants Thor inside of him tonight, come hell or high water.  He whines high in his throat because he doesn't know how to get it out of his mouth - until he gets his lips on track with his brain and not with the rest of his body.

"Yellow," he manages, " _fuck,_  yellow."

Thor stills and a pin could be heard hitting the floor for a few seconds, until Thor swallows loudly.  "What's wrong?"

Loki laughs into the pillow and that's not what Thor was expecting if the look on his face is anything to go by.  "Nothing's wrong, nothing, it's the exact opposite."

"Then -"

"I want you to fuck me," he says, cutting Thor off, tightening his fingers in the duvet cover, "I'm ready, I'm so  _ready_  for you."

"Fuck," Thor answers, and presses Loki down and around, shifting so that they're on their sides and Thor can hook his chin over Loki's shoulder.

"You're sure?" he asks, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder and Loki whines and presses back against him in response, even as Thor begins to fuck him with his fingers again.

"Yeah," he pants out, "I'm - I'm  _positive_ , Thor."

"Good."

With the hand that isn't working him open, Thor reaches for the lube - they keep one on the windowsill, for obvious reasons.  He pauses then - and Loki keens and tries to thrust back on him, asks for it, but Thor doesn't move.

"I know you're clean, and you know that I'm clean, but do you want to use a condom?  Safe sex, and all that."

"No," Loki says, and how can he get out what he wants, how can he form words, "I won't ever have anyone but you."

 _Oh, well, that works,_  the still functioning part of his brain says.

"You absolute  _fucker_ ," Thor mouths against the back of his neck before he bites down again, and when Thor slips his fingers out of him with an obscene noise it makes Loki blush like mad, because even though he wants Thor, it's still surreal that this is what's going to happen.

He can feel Thor slicking his cock up behind him, panting, wet breath rasp against his ear, and soon enough he's rutting forward against Loki and then, "Pull your knee up, against your chest."

Loki does but he flushes, because this is such an open position - and  _god_ , if anyone could see him now, see how much he wants it, how much he's  _gagging_  for it, he'd never live it down.  But it's just him and Thor, just the two of them, and that's what matters.

"Almost, almost," Thor says, and teases the tip of his fingers around the rim of his hole for a moment before stretching him open once more, just a little more than normal, just a little more ache than he normally has, but it's the kind of ache that makes him want to arch his back and present himself to Thor like a bitch in heat.

"Ready?" Thor asks, and presses a kiss to his jaw, hovering over him on an elbow, and Loki nods because he doesn't trust his mouth.

"I'll go slow, but tell me if you want me to stop, okay?"

"Yeah," Loki manages, and bites his lip as Thor redistributes his weight, shuffles down just a bit, breathes deep against the curve of his shoulder.

He can feel the blunt head of Thor's cock press against him, and he knows how big Thor is - he knows and it seems like he would never be able to fit within him but he knows it's possible.  But then, just as he's beginning to think that he might not want this, his guardian muscles open and Thor begins to slide home, and Loki is gasping for breath by the time that Thor's hips are flush against him.  It feels like hours later, but Loki knows that it's only been a few minutes.

"Color?"

"Green!"

"Good," and it's a growl, a noise from Thor that he's never heard before, and then he continues, "remember what I told you that time?  I'm gonna fuck you 'til you scream, Loki, until you're begging me to let you come."

Loki manages to gasp out, "Fuck, Thor," before Thor rocks his hips back, slow, then forward, a burning push-pull that Loki could get used, something that Loki could take forever, for as long as Thor wants to give it to him.

Thor's hand slips up to pull his knee up more, to pull his leg taut and captured.  He's bent further and Thor has ever pulled him before but he wants it, want Thor to test his limits as he fucks him.

Thor's still going slow, but it's not enough, not nearly enough, and Loki says, almost a demand, "More, please, god," and Thor groans and listens, quickening his pace until his hips are snapping.  He continues like that for a long moment, pace even and measured, taking care to not hurt him, but even though it's good, it's not enough.

He's so greedy right now, and he knows it, but for once he can be, he can be greedy with Thor and his cock and his fingers and his mouth, because Thor lets him be as greedy as he wants.  " _More_ ," Loki tells him.

"Fine, I'll give you more," Thor rumbles, and then he's moving them, never taking his cock out of him and Loki's on his stomach, knees bent under him, one of Thor's hands fisted in his hair and the other gripping his hip hard enough to leave marks.  He loves it though, loves how Thor holds him down and really starts to fuck him, mindless of what Loki wants, but not really, because Loki wants what Thor wants, what Thor gives him.

Thor is panting, and so is Loki, and the sheer pleasure of it - even as Thor is hit or miss with his sweet spot, but he knows eventually they'll figure it out - makes him start to laugh, because he's so pleased and so happy, and he's  _so close_  to coming.

Thor tightens the hand in his hair, pulls his head back a little more and Loki can't help but smile and laugh again, breathless, as Thor leans forward and tugs his hips up, just enough that the next thrust in is dead on his prostate.

Loki yowls like a trodden-on cat and this time it's Thor that laughs and leans forward more, chest pressed against Loki's back, and his voice deepens as he says, "You can come whenever you're ready."

Thor lets go of his hair and Loki lets his head drop onto the pillow as Thor grips his shoulder with one hand, sweat-slick but he can still hold it, and pulls him back onto his cock; and it's the thought of Thor being close, that he made Thor this way, makes him arch his back and come with one of his hands wrapped around his cock.

It must be good for Thor as well - because when Loki's panting on the pillow, Thor only thrusts a few more times before he comes and it's strange, the feeling, but perhaps he will get used to it - or maybe he won't, who knows.

Thor collapses on top of him, sweaty and slick, and he waits a few minutes before pulling out - and that's not pleasant, Loki thinks, but he can deal with it - but he doesn't bother to pull away or worry about the mess on the sheets before he's pulling Loki back-to-chest with him.

They don't speak, because it almost seems as though there aren't any words needed, but the thought that he's had sex with someone, sex with someone that he cares about and that cares about him, and he can't help but dissolve into giggles that turn into laughter, that turns into body-shaking hysteria that has Thor laughing along with him.

"What is wrong with us?" Thor manages after a few minutes, flat on his back with Loki curled up on his side like a cat.

Loki giggles a few more times.  "A lot, but nothing."

"Most people wouldn't spend their afterglow laughing hysterically," Thor says, carding his fingers through Loki's hair.  It should bother him because that's so fucking dirty, but they'll shower and change the sheets before bed.  It's fine.

"We're not most people, as cliche as it is," Loki amends, "and who cares?"

Thor hums and presses a kiss to the crown of Loki's head.  "You're right.  It only needs to be what makes us happy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tuttugu og tvö** \- twenty two (íslenska)


	27. tuttugu og þrjú

He wakes for the sentencing and he aches, aches but in a good way; it doesn’t feel as though he’s been taken and loved but it’s still _there_ , deep within him.

He showers and dresses and when he goes to the kitchen, Thor isn’t there but there’s a short note telling him that Thor will be back around four or five, because he has a meeting, but to call him if he needs to talk to someone.

He fingers the note, lets it slip back onto the counter and for a moment, for an unknown moment, an unknown reason, he feels strangely bereft and lost, cut off from the world before he’s back with a jolt and dots swim before his eyes.

He shakes his head like a dog coming out of water and pulls on his suit jacket because Hugo and Mark will be waiting downstairs.  He doesn’t want them to wait.

* * *

He can’t help but squirm in his seat while they wait for his father’s hearing, because his nervous energy is through the roof and he doesn’t know what else to do other than squirm and move and try and get rid of some of it.

Mark sets a gentle hand on his shoulder and gives him a little glass of water and Loki smiles weakly because it will help, but not a lot.  The preceding party exits the courtroom and they wait a few more minutes before the bailiff shows them in.

Judge Corner is already seated and Mark ushers him into his seat; the judge smiles at him tightly but smiles nevertheless.

His father comes in after they’re seated, still smartly dressed in one of his bespoke suits and Loki is surprised that he has still been allowed the luxury, but then his lawyers were always good at getting him the best.

He’ll be in a jail uniform soon enough.

Under the table Loki is digging his nails into his thigh and it hurts but it grounds him, makes him remember why he’s here and what he can do, how strong he is and how his father has been wrong all these years.

“The court is now in session,” the bailiff barks and Judge Corner looks up from his papers.

“Today will be the final sentencing of on Farbauti Ymirsson, on the place of incarceration, the duration of protected custody of the minor, and the duration of the order of protection against the defendant in the name of Loki Laufeyjarsson.  Does the defense have anything to add before the sentencing?”

“No, your honor.”

“Does the prosecution have anything to add before the sentencing?”

“No, your honor.”

“Very well,” the judge says, and steeples his hands to look over them.  “The place of incarceration will be in the County Jail Minor Offenders Wing, subject to change upon the behavior of the defendant.  The defendant will serve two consecutive terms of 365 days each, totalling 730 days of full imprisonment without possibility of parole at that time.  In addition to the terms of incarceration, a total amount of $5,000.00 will be paid in full at the time of incarceration to the County Court.  These are the terms of sentencing for the two Class A misdemeanors.  In regards to the Class C misdemeanor, the defendant is sentenced to an additional 30 days of incarceration, at the beginning of which me may be released on parole under the County Jail Good Behavior Allowance Act.  You are also levelled a $1,500.00 fine, the full amount of which is due upon release.  Are there any questions thus far?”

“No, your honor,” his father’s lawyer says.

“Under Chapter 750, section 5, part 6, 5/602,” Judge Corner continues, “the unnamed minor child of Farbauti Ymirrson will be placed into protective custody of adult relation, unnamed for the safety of the minor child, and upon review after the time served, may be returned to the defendant based upon both his performance of time served as well as the continued best interest of the child.”

The judge shuffles his papers and looks over at Loki.  “In regards to your adult child, the court will also issue an Order of Protection to Loki Laufeyjarsson against Farbauti Ymirsson for the duration of his incarceration and will continue indefinitely until the plaintiff so chooses to end that Order of Protection.  The specific terms of the Order of Protection shall be determined between the Prosecution and the Defense, and will be in the best interest of the Plaintiff.”

“Also in regards to Mr. Laufeyjarsson, he will be awarded the full amount of the fixed trust that was to be granted to him upon his reaching the age of 21, including the accrued interest, which amounts to a total net present value of $2,808,932.85.  This amount will be paid in full to the Plaintiff as soon as possible.  If the defendant refuses to release the funds to the plaintiff, he will be, under no uncertain terms, charged with fraud.  Are there any objections?”

“No, your honor.”

Mark slides a note over to him - _We’re already discussing terms with them_ \- and Loki nods. He knew the amount was large, he knew that, but it still comes as a shock because he didn’t even think about the accrued interest.

His mother was the oldest of her sisters - Laufey, Hjordis, and Aino - and since his grandparents had no sons, she inherited the family firm after going through law school, which was how she met his father.

He’s already doing sums in his head, how much taxes will take and how much of it he can use to pay for his education, and how much he’s going to put in Byleistr’s savings account; he’s been lost in his head for a few minutes when Hugo taps him on the wrist and Loki turns his attention back to the proceedings.

Judge Corner is talking about reparations and particulars of incarceration, much of which Loki just doesn’t understand.  He knows that his father is going to jail and that Byleistr is going to be safe with Aunt Hjordis, and that is really all that matters to him at the moment.

Then it’s over.

It’s underwhelming, almost, and it has Loki in cold sweats because he was expecting more, more talking or arguing or _something_ , but there just - there just _isn’t_.  It’s like a strange alternate universe where he’s destined to never understand what’s going on or how to win or how to make things go his ways all the time, like other people seem to be able to do.

He’s talking lowly to Mark - “Drop me off at my friend’s house, please?” “Of course we will, Loki,” - when Hugo taps him on the shoulder.

“Your father wishes to speak to you.  You do not have to do so if you do not wish it.  The choice is yours and we will do whatever you wish.”

Loki can feel his pulse spike and the bottom of his stomach drop out, because he is still scared of his father and what he can do, but Loki _won_ , he won over his father and he can talk to the man; he can face him.  If he doesn’t face him, Loki tells himself, there’s no real win for him.  He has to be able to face him, otherwise in the long run, his father will have the upper hand and Loki doesn’t want that any more.

“I’ll talk to him,” Loki says, and walks around Hugo before he can say anything else and approaches his father, who watches his progress.

His father stands there with his hands behind his back, almost like he would do when Loki would come home from school and his father would tell him to talk about his day and his father would judge his conduct.

He looks old and tired, though, almost as though his ordeal has aged _him_ , and Loki supposes it has, really, once people found out what was going on.

His father takes a deep breath.  “I know my apologies will mean nothing to you, but you still have them nonetheless.”

“I can’t forgive you,” Loki responds, and his father nods shortly.

“I understand.  I shouldn’t have done those things, you know.  But I did.”

“You did.”

His father reaches one hand out and it takes all Loki has not to flinch and dart away, but he doesn’t move, and he knows his features are flat and blank.  The hand stops on his shoulder and for once his father doesn’t tighten his fingers and dig them into the meat of his shoulder, just rests it there as though he has always done so.

“I should have always told you that you would do great things.  I can’t fix that.”

“You should have, but you didn’t,” Loki says, and reaches up to brush the hand off his shoulder.  He does an about face and returns to Mark and Hugo without looking back, and says, “We can go whenever you’re ready.”

* * *

Mark drops him off at Tony’s house, and the front door is locked because Tony is in class and Steve is at work, and he assumes Bruce and Clint are in similar places; he lets himself in with the key hidden under the false door knocker with Mark’s reminder that they’ll have a meeting sometime next week about the order of protection and other matters.

He stumbles in the main room and up the stairs to Tony’s room with the four-poster bed (still unmade) and shucks his suit and collapses into Tony’s bed in nothing but his boxers and singlet.

He can feel the panic welling up in the base of his torso and he takes deep breaths for so long that all the oxygen is making him dizzy and light-headed.  He doesn’t know how long he lays there in Tony’s bed, curled up under the blankets and hiding from the world.  He doesn’t sleep or move or do anything until he hears the front door open and footsteps come up the stairs.

Tony’s in the room and throwing his bag on the floor before he notices Loki curled up in his bed, peering out at him from under the blankets.

“As nice of a sight this is, shouldn’t you be in someone else’s bed that isn’t me?”

Loki lets out a little wordless moan and buries himself under the blankets again, blocking out the afternoon sun and Tony’s face.  The bed dips and the blankets move about until Tony’s revealed him again.

“Hey, what’s wrong?  What is it?”

“Oh my god, Tony,” he says, “he touched me, and I let him, and he didn’t hurt me but I feel like shit because I let him -”

“Woah, okay, who are we talking about here, because I could think of several and I need clarification.”

“My _father_ ,” Loki says, and continues, “after the end of the sentencing and before we left and I _let_ him, but I don’t know why because I had never wanted him to do that before, at least not consciously, but I let him and I feel like shit about it.”

Tony reaches out a little and when Loki doesn’t flinch away he sets a hand on his upper arm, a reassuring weight.  “I’m sure you did fine, Loki, I sure as hell don’t think that you did anything wrong talking to him.”

Loki moans again - and he’s not being pitiful, he’s _not_ , he’s just confused and sad and angry, both at himself and his father.  He shifts closer to Tony and Tony lets him, even as he hears Tony texting furiously with the hand that Loki can’t see (and it’s Steve or Tasha or Thor, but he doesn’t want to see any of them, none of them, because he doesn’t _deserve_ to see them right now).

He must say that out loud or something because Tony’s shaking his arm a little, saying “Don’t even _go_ there, Loki, don’t do it, I’m fucking serious,” and Tony hauls him up by that arm and sits him up before speaking again.

“I don’t care what your shitty dad told you because we’re all part of the shitty dad club - you and me and Steve, too, and Thor, even though they won’t admit it - so don’t tell me that we shouldn’t be your friends or you shouldn’t be ours, because I will _fuck you up_ , no matter how much it would hurt me,” he says, and gives Loki a little shake.  “You won, Loki, you _won_ , and he can’t hurt you or your funnily-named brother and you need to remember that _you did that_.”

“I know, but-”

“No buts, no sir, not a one,” Tony says, and shakes him one last time.  “You equal good. You plus me equal friends.  You minus your father equals good.  It is not a complicated equation set.  I’m not asking you to solve [Hilbert’s Sixteenth Problem](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hilbert%27s_sixteenth_problem).”

“I don’t even know who that is,” Loki hiccups.

“Then there’s not a problem and you don’t have to worry about it,” Tony says, a little smug, and grins.  “Also Steve is coming home from work with dinner for us and we are going sit in bed and eat Chinese food and have a long conversation that you are not getting out of.”

Loki shrugs and curls back into the blankets, looking up at Tony.

“Don’t,” Tony says softly, and though Loki isn’t quite sure what Tony’s talking about (though he has an idea) he knows that he will listen to what Tony says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tuttugu og þrjú** \- twenty three (íslenska)


	28. tuttugu og fjögur

“So, are we going to talk about the giant elephant in the room?”

Loki looks up from where he’s playing with the last of his beef chow fun as Tony rests his elbows on his knees, looking over his glasses, eyebrows raised.

“Tony,” Steve starts, but Tony cuts him off.

“Because it’s pretty much sitting on our chests or something, if that were possible but it’s not because the sheer mass of the elephant would squash our ribs to bits, but if it were possible, it would be.  And I, for one, can’t stand it anymore, so I need to figure out what is going on.”

He brushes crumbs off the coverlet of his bed, where Loki still lays among the pillows.

“So out with it, Loki, tell me what’s going on.”

“Tony,” Steve sighs, “don’t.”

Tony rolls his eyes and stuffs a fortune cookie in his mouth after reading the fortune.

“No, it’s - it’s fine, Steve,” Loki says, drawing his finger around in the leftover sauce on his plate and then licking it off, “I just don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning is always best,” Tony says, softly, and though he’s been badgering Loki about this Loki knows that he has to talk to someone before it eats him up from the inside out, escapes through his pores and infects everything that he touches.

So he talks.  From the beginning of the whole thing, from the first day he found out about the trial to that morning.  It comes pouring out of him, a torrent of words, and Tony and Steve just listen, asking questions when they need clarification but otherwise not speaking.  It’s cathartic, and Loki can’t help but get angry and raise his voice and cry a little, those tears that escape when you least want them to do so.  He just talks, more than he has in a long time, about Thor and his father and his brother and the people that he loves.  It’s freeing and lifting and so good, but at the same time when he’s done talking, flushed and panting, he feels _empty_ because for so long he kept everything to himself.

He rubs his hands over his face because he doesn’t know where to go from here.  He doesn’t talk about his feelings.

“Did he force you?” Steve asks, some minutes later.

“What? No!” Loki says, shocked.

“I thought so, but I had to ask,” Steve says with raised hands.  “You don’t sound happy about it, though.  And that worries me.”

“It’s not like I didn’t want it, but it just happened and I keep thinking, like, what if we moved too fast?  What if it was too much?” He grips his hair with his hands and topples sideways into the pillows, moaning.  “I don’t even know what to think.”

“Do you love him?”

Loki scoffs at Tony’s question.

“Loki, _do you love him_?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then think about it this way: you both wanted it.  You both wanted that intimate closeness.  Sometimes things happen quickly and it’s scary and strange and god, do I know how that works, but at the same time you have to look at the spontaneous things for what they are: spur of the moment.  It’s those moments that make you think, that make you wonder who you are and what you’re doing.  Sometimes bad things come out of that reflection.  Sometimes good things come out of it.  It’s up to you to figure out which it is for you.

“Is it fucking terrifying to think about what happened and have a potential paradigm shift looming on the horizon?  God, yeah, of course it is, but when you manage it - when you make up your mind - that power that you’ve given yourself is the most satisfying feeling in the entire world.  It’s mind-blowing.”

Tony sprawls sideways and grins at Loki, gripping him by the calf.  “Neither Steve nor I can tell you what to think nor how to process the fact that you boned one of the most gorgeous guys we have ever known.  But if it made you happy, then it’s a good thing.  If it didn’t make you happy, then you’ve got to figure out why and how to fix that.  And that’s what matters - that you’re happy.”

“So that’s the question here: are you?  Happy, I mean,” Tony says.

“Yeah,” Loki says, but he knows it lacks conviction.  He thinks about it, really thinks about it.

He thinks about waking up covered in Thor’s warm bulk, the way he snores against the back of Loki’s neck.  He thinks about making breakfast and sitting on the balcony.  He thinks about watching bad movies with Tasha, eating popcorn and pizza and laughing until they think that they might choke.  He thinks about watching football with Steve, even though he doesn’t understand it, and laughing when Steve shouts at the TV.  He thinks about hanging out with Tony and helping him in the lab, just watching as he works with gears and springs and wires.

He thinks about his cousins and how they light up the room and treat him like a brother, how they just want to see him happy even if they don’t know much about what that is aside from the simple pleasures of childhood.  He thinks of his aunt and uncle, who have worked so hard to make sure that Loki is kept in the family and sees himself as part of it rather than just an unwanted addition.  He thinks of his brother, young and carefree and happy, though confused, and how his aunt and uncle are going to make him even happier, treat him like he should be treated.

He thinks about Steve’s mother, who didn’t even know him but wanted to know him and made the effort to do so.  He remembers her sad smile and warm hugs and the scent of fresh bread in the kitchen, of a barn filled with horses and chickens and barn cats.

He thinks about his classes and his books and the people he knows online, the group of friends that he has made there.  He thinks about working at the French table and getting coffee and laughing with Pepper about things that the underclassmen do. 

He thinks about all the people that have made his life bearable and then made it wonderful, and it hits him like that - he _is_ happy.  Not as happy as he could be, no, but then again is anyone?

“Yes,” he says, sure, convinced, though he knows that there will be ups and downs, “I am happy.  For the first time in such a long time, I’m happy.”

Tony reaches up and slaps him on the back with a grin.  “That’s great.  That’s excellent.  What are you going to do now, go to Disney World?”

“No, I need to - I need to go _home_ ,” Loki says, and rolls out of Tony’s bed to dress quickly, not even bothering with his tie or jacket, and picks up his things and leaves Steve and Tony on the bed without another word.

He jogs back to his apartment and up the stairs, even though he’s shivering and sweating at the same time, breathing hard.

He bursts through the door and Thor looks up from the couch where he’s making notes in a textbook, his brow furrowed.

“Loki, is everything-”

“I’m happy,” Loki blurts, cutting him off.  “I’m happy and it scares me but I love it and I love you and I don’t know how to make this work.  I don’t know how to keep us happy.”

“So, yeah,” Loki says and shrugs and drops his things on the floor.  “I thought you should know.”

“That’s good,” Thor says and stands, pulling Loki close and smiling, “that’s real good.  I’m happy, too.”

“Now all we have to do is figure out how to stay that way,” Loki mumbles into Thor’s shoulder.

“I think that will be easier than getting here was, don’t you?”

“I hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tuttugu og fjögur** \- twenty four (íslenska)


	29. tuttugu og fimm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter, ladies and gentlemen. Sorry this has taken so long, but real life has been kicking me in the pants. Not cool.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me until the end.

It happens on a spring day, between midterms and finals, when the air is just heavy enough to remind everyone that summer is coming but still fragrant with the perfume from the blooming trees to keep spring in their minds.  He's outside using one of the stone tables, French papers spread over the surface and held down with bits of his belongings - his phone, his iPod, a book here and there.

In all honesty, Loki doesn't have much to worry about in regards to his French exam.  He can speak it in his sleep, and he uses it constantly when he tutors the undergrads and talks with Julien and Aline, the international students from Saint-Étienne.  There's almost no point in studying, but he still does, simply for something to do.

He thinks about pulling his International Business text out, but he just can't be bothered.  He knows that he'll do well, good enough to garner a B or so, and that's all he needs to keep his scholarship at the moment.

He's tired, though, of working on his papers and his exams guides and everything else that he has to do to prepare for finals.

4 more weeks, though, and he'll be able to go home to his aunt and uncle, to his  _brother_ , and then after a week or so there he'll be getting on a plane to spend time with Tony and Steve in Arizona, Thor meeting them there because he doesn't fly.  From there he doesn't know what they're going to do or where they're going to go, but that doesn't matter to him.  All that matters is that he'll be with both his families: the family he was given and the family that he made.

It makes him warm and happy inside, filled to bursting after the trials that came through January and February and then, like spring, things just began to bloom and look up.

Loki's thinking about packing up, going to grab a sandwich and then to Tony's house for the weekend to watch films and watch Tony and Thor build things, watch Pepper roll her eyes as they banter back and forth, when someone taps him on the shoulder.

He turns and looks, and the last person he has expected to see there is Darcy, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Can we talk?"

"I assume that you have that capability, yes."

Her mouth thins and he knows that she wants to make a smart retort, but she doesn't.  She just sits down across from him, moving her coffee cup around in her hands.

He doesn't really have anything to say to her; just because they were once friends, close friends, doesn't mean that he has to accept her apology.  He wants to accept it, though, as much as he will never admit it.  He misses her, and even though he loves hanging out with Jane, he knows they both recognize the gap that should be filled by Darcy.

"I was wrong," she says, soft, and she moves some of the papers around with her fingertips.  "I was wrong, and I was jealous.  It had always been you and me, and then all of a sudden there were these new people and you wanted to spend time with them too, and I didn't want to share you."

"It's like you were all there was for me for so long, and then you found out how great other people were, and I was worried that you would forget about me."

"I would never forget about you."

Darcy looks sheepish.  "I know that, now.  I always knew.  But I was afraid."

She picks at her nails for a second and then continues.  "I was being stupid, and I've lost all this time to be your friend because I didn't want to be secondary or tertiary.  And I  _know_ that it's not like that, I know that, but it still seems like that.  Like even though we've been friends since we were kids that no matter what happens I worry that I'll be left behind."

Loki shuffles some of his papers around and stacks them up.  "But you left me."

Darcy winces but Loki has no sympathy for her right now.  "You left me when I  _needed_ you, Darcy.  And you promised me that you would help me with my problems, and you left me to fight alone, with people that I hardly knew."

He crumples up a scrap of paper and throws it at the garbage can, making it in with one shot.  It doesn't even make him pleased that he made it.  "The people that I hardly knew ended up caring for me, and when I tried to talk to you, when I came over and tried to talk with you and Jane you  _walked out_ on us, you didn't even  _listen._  What was I supposed to think about that?"

Darcy shrugs, and looks equally sheepish and pained and he wants to smooth the pinched look from her face, make sure that she understands where he's coming from, but he can't, not until she  _gets it_.

"You just left me hanging, you left Jane hanging, and I wanted to  _share_ this newness with you.  I wanted to talk to you like we used to, but you weren't there."

"I  _know_ ," she croaks, hand covering her mouth for a moment as though she doesn't want the words to leave her lips, but then she lets them free.  "I was the shittiest friend, and I had to hear everything from Natasha, at least, you know, what she thought I should know, and I kept thinking about how I should come back and talk to you but then I kept thinking that you would be angry and you wouldn't want anything to do with me, even though I know that's not who you  _are_.  So I just - I just stayed a coward and sulked and Jane got sick of me and even Natasha told me how much of a wuss I was being."

She tosses back the last of her coffee and crumples the empty cup in her fist.  Darcy has hunched into herself and she looks miserable, looks as miserable as he feels, and he knows that he will forgive her, no matter how slowly.

"I can't trust you again right away," he says softly, playing the pen he's let on the table, "but I want to be friends again.  I want that."

"I've missed you," she whispers, sounding clogged up, and Loki realizes that she's crying, just a little.

He reaches across the table and takes her hand in his, gripping her fingers tight.  She grips just as tightly back, smiling wetly, and Loki can't help but smile back.

He doesn't really know where to start now or if they should just pick up where they left off.  He follows his instincts, following his gut, just like Tony has taught him to do.

"So, Friday night there's an International Expo, and the French table could use some help, if you want," he offers, and when Darcy smiles, all teeth and dimples, he knows that he's done right.

* * *

Thor and Tony are playing Dead Space 3 later that night, and Loki is curled in Steve's lap, quizzing him on his German vocabulary list (all while Steve tells him his accent is terrible and Tony starts speaking in a horribly false German accent as he plays Isaac).

"I saw Darcy today," he tells Steve as they're taking a break and watching Tony die repeatedly as he tries to climb up some kind of sheer cliff.

"No shit, really?"

Loki nods, curling the drawstring of his sweats around his fingers.  "We talked about ... stuff.  She apologized.  We're going to try and be friends again, but she says that she understands why I'm hesitant."

Steve nods, waiting until Tony is done throwing a tantrum over his fifth or sixth death while Thor laughs.

"I think it's good that you're willing to talk to her.  Did she explain why she fucked you over?"

Loki nods, squirming around until his head rests on the armrest of the couch and he's looking up at Steve, who rolls his eyes (in fondness, Loki guesses, because he puts up with Loki when he gets like this, touch-starved in the way of friendly affection, different than the affection that Thor gives him) and shuffles his things around again until they are both comfortable.

"Yeah, she did.  At first I thought it was just show, but - well, I  _may_ have called Jane to confirm what she said.  May have.  I will admit nothing."

Steve laughs, loud and hard, and Thor looks over at them with a grin.

"What, is he telling you about talking to Jane?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees, "our little Loki has gotten a little catty!"

"Purr, baby, me-ow" Tony says, and then slumps over with a whine as he dies, yet again.

"You suck, Tony, let me do it, just wait a second," Thor tells him and takes the controller away and setting it aside.  He shuffles over on hands and knees to the couch and kisses Loki and it's a little strange, still sprawled out in Steve's lap, but not at the same time.

Steve makes gagging noises above him and squawks as Thor stands and kisses him messily, just as Tony did that one time, and laughs as Steve feigns disgust while Loki laughs.

" _Beard burn_ ," Steve moans and it sets Loki into a new fit of laughter.

They watch Thor beat the section the first go, and Tony slumps over on the carpet, moaning about how horrible this is, how unfair that Thor can play the game better than he can.

(Tony conveniently ignores the fact that he trounces Thor in pretty much every other game that they play and the only reason that Thor wins this is because Tony does  _not_ like the Necromorphs.)

"We're a family, right?" Loki blurts.

Tony rolls over and looks at him like he's grown horns or a second head.  "Of course we're a family, what did you think?  No, Loki, we're secretly, like, crime bosses and we're going to sell you to the French."

"Russian mob bosses, more like," Natasha says as she comes through the doorway and flings her things down on the floor before collapsing on the couch.  "Remind me to never teach an elementary school YMCA class ever again. I swear they have a vendetta against me."

"You need wine, and cheesecake," Tony says sagely, and gets up from his position on the floor.  "And I wasn't fucking with you, Loki, of course we're a family.  We're little, and broken, but a family."

"You couched that from  _Lilo & Stitch_!" Natasha yells as his retreating back.

"It still makes sense!" Tony shouts back from the kitchen over the clinking of wine glasses.

Loki smiles at Natasha, who accepts the wine glass from Tony when he comes back, whole cheesecake and plates balanced in his arms.

This is his family, part of it, at least, and it is a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tuttugu og fimm** \- twenty-five (íslenska)


	30. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all SO MUCH for reading this. for taking the time to read my work, and comment, and give me kudos. it's kept me going for such a long time, and i don't even know how to thank you all.
> 
> so thank you, so much.
> 
> I'm still doing shorts, and, as always, you can catch up with me on [my tumblr](http://kipumylly.tumblr.com).

_a year later_

It's a brisk morning, for New Mexico, and the sun is just peeking over the horizon.  Crystal Springs Ranch is still and quiet, everyone still sleeping.  Well, mostly everyone, aside from Saltine, the bay mare trying to fish more apple slices from his pocket where he sits on the fence.

Loki fishes one out and she takes it gently from his fingers, nickering a little, butting her head up against his back to try and coax more apples from his hands.

"Haven't got any more," he tells her, and shifts a little so that he can rub at her neck.  Out of all the horses, Saltine is his favorite, mostly because she's gentle and sweet, but can make a line of fire if she wants to get somewhere.

The chickens are clucking softly, and he thinks about feeding them while he's out here, drinking coffee and watching the sun rise.  He finishes his mug and gives Saltine one last rub on her nose before he jumps down from the fence and ambles over to the chicken coop.

He measures out the feed and ducks inside to pour it in the trough; they're not all awake yet, but a few flit down from their perches and begin pecking at the meal.  They have names, all of them, but Loki can never remember them all.  Steve knows them, and Sarah, but Loki can only remember a handful of them; Dottie, Buttercup, Patience.

He ducks out, making sure to shut the feed bin tightly before he goes.  If it's left open, the birds will feed until they're sick.

Chickens are not intelligent birds.

Some of the cows are mooing softly in the barn, but Loki has no interest in milking them.  It bothers him, for some reason, even though it's almost all automated with the machines.  It's just too strange for him.

It's strange to be here, though, with nothing looming over him, no school to go back to in the fall.  He's graduated, he's got his Bachelor's,  _summa cum laude_ , enough to start teaching at the community college in the fall.

He hasn't accepted the position yet, he has two more weeks to decide.  It's tempting to take it, it really is.

Seattle is so far away from everything he knows, though.  Thor has already said that he would go wherever Loki chooses to go, and with his degrees, he could.

Tony wants to go with them; Steve does, too.  Tony tells him, every time that Loki says that they should go where they want to go, that families should stick together, and that he can't get rid of them that easily.

He likes to think of Seattle, of teaching anthropology at the college there, being an associate professor, admittedly, but teaching nonetheless.

He doesn't know about the weather, though, because all it does is rain, but then again, upstate New York isn't  _dry_ , either.  He doesn't mind the rain, not really, it's just that it makes his joints sore and swollen, but the pills he takes make it barely noticeable.

He kicks a stone in his path and opens the kitchen screen door, latching it behind him and starting up another batch of coffee.  Sarah will be up soon, then Steve, Thor sometime after that, but Tony won't get out of bed unless he's forced out of it or coaxed with breakfast.

He digs out the makings for pancakes, bacon, and eggs as the coffee begins to percolate, the aroma beginning to permeate throughout the house.

He's just starting the bacon as Sarah pads into the kitchen, still in her robe and slippers, hair piled atop her head.  "Oh, coffee made, bacon started.  Aren't you busy this morning?"

Loki shrugs.  "I woke up early, and needed something to do, something to do while I thought."

"About Seattle?" Sarah asks, adding cream and suger to her coffee.  When Loki nods, she smiles.  "I think you should go.  I don't tell people what I think they should do often - you know how I work - but sometimes, I think people need to hear what I have to say about the matters weighing on their mind.  I can't feel anything negative if you choose to go to Seattle.  I only see negative things if you choose to stay, if you choose to remain here and do nothing."

Loki flips the bacon in the pan, silent, digesting Sarah's words.  After a few minutes, she speaks again.

"I don't want you to think that I am pressuring you.  I just want you to know what I think, what I  _feel_.  You're stronger than all of us.  You know what's best for yourself, my darling."

She stretches up and pecks him on the cheek, pats him on the shoulder.  "I'm going to go get dressed, and then I'll come back down and help you cook."

He watches her go and then turns back to the bacon, cooking, putting it on the paper towel to drain, draining the grease from the pan, putting more bacon in.

Sarah comes back down with Steve following her and they cook in silence, because Steve doesn't talk much, not until after his first cup of coffee.

Thor bangs in somewhere in there, between batches of pancakes, getting a cup of coffee and sitting down at the table in a slump and waiting to wake fully.

Loki begins to make the eggs as Tony makes his way down the stairs, heavy and plodding, eyes mostly closed as he slumps into the kitchen and attaches himself to Steve's back.

They all sit down and begin to eat, halfway through the meal before Loki clears his throat.

"I'm taking the Seattle job," he says, picking at his bacon as though discussing the weather.  "I'm going to call the college after breakfast."

"All right," Thor says, smiling, wide and blinding.

"All right?" Loki asks.

"We should do some house hunting after taking care of the animals," Tony adds, swirling his pancake around in syrup.

"Close to the college," Steve amends.  "I should see if there are any teaching jobs for art there.  Or English."

"You'd get hired," Loki says.  "So, Seattle?"

"Seattle," Thor says.

Tony raises his glass of milk like a toast, and Thor joins him, and Steve, and Sarah, and then Loki.

"To Seattle," they say.

Loki smiles.


End file.
